


Senseless Marble

by FinalizerPsytech



Series: Pygmalion [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual mild D/s with Dom!Hux, Happy Endings For Bad People, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinalizerPsytech/pseuds/FinalizerPsytech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years of isolation following the Jedi Massacre have had an unfortunate effect on Kylo Ren. He's angry, reckless, and devoid of all social graces.</p><p>That's why he's been sent to Captain Brendol Hux Jnr: to learn how to behave.</p><p>Hux proves a surprisingly willing teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried to use the relevant Star Wars terms for things, but this canon is new to me, and very expansive, so I've probably made some glaring errors. I've also made a conscious choice to stick with a some real-world words rather than the SW ones (the swearing is probably the obvious example) because some people (like myself) find the terms that haven't shown up in the movies to be a little jarring.
> 
> Special thanks to the [Sin Bin](http://kylux.proboards.com/) crew for their encouragement and proofreading, and to [Cat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CathrineMcCord/pseuds/CathrineMcCord) for the blow-by-blow read-through. I appreciate it immensely. ♥

Like most of the junior officers in the First Order, Captain Brendol Hux has spent much of his life aboard starships. Unlike many, he did have the experience of living planetside; he'd been four when the Empire had fallen and his parents had to abandon Arkanis. Although he doesn't have many memories from that time, it's more than many of the younger cadets ever had, and they'd always been curious to know what it's like to really have a home planet, to live in the one place for a long time.

Hux has never known quite what to tell them. He does think of Arkanis as home, in a vague sort of way, but it isn't a concept that has a lot of meaning for him. Home to Hux is mostly any place of temporary safety and respite, and he rather thinks that looking for anything more is a waste of effort. He's perfectly happy and at home aboard a starship, and has never had any yearning to attach himself to a large rock just for the sake of it.

He can admit that there are some upsides to living planetside, though. Increased living space is the big one, though privacy and the ever-changing flow of people have their attraction, too. 

The big downside, though, is the noise. Animals. Traffic. Weather. His first night on the surface, Hux had lain awake until dawn, listening to a storm howl its way around the building, tearing at the roof and windows-- the wind itself shrieking and groaning, not to mention the jarring clatters and banging of things overturning and careening through the streets and into buildings. It was dramatically, unpleasantly different to the lulling white noise of a starship: the hum of the engines have no effect on him so much as to put him soundly to sleep, and he'd wondered if he'd ever manage to regain his equilibrium and find the ability to drop off properly in this wretched place. 

...But he did, of course; he is his father's son, strong and able, and he acclimated quickly. 

That's how he's been able to ignore the banging outside for the last ten minutes. The wind had been brutal before he'd gone to bed, but Hux had put it out of his mind and had been enjoying a deep and largely dreamless sleep until the persistent sound clawed its way into his consciousness and dragged him from slumber. 

For a little while, he simply lies in the bed, willing the sound to go away. 

It does not.

In fact, the more he thinks on it, the more it sounds like it is coming directly from his doorstep, and so he resigns himself to accepting that something has torn loose out there, and that he needs to go out to check on it. He has no intention of flailing about in a storm, in the dark, in his nightclothes, but possibly it would be an easy fix...?

He will later remember this as the most wrongly optimistic guess of his life.

As soon as he opens the door to look out, Hux is shouldered out of the way by a soaked, surly youth, shivering and dripping all over his floor, glowering at him from underneath the dark fringe that's been plastered to his forehead with the rain. 

"Why the fuck didn't you open the door? I was out there for nearly an hour."

Hux simply stares at him, genuinely in shock. It's not a robbery, he assumes; this is an Order planet, not some wretched lawless backwater, and crime is very rare. Perhaps a case of mistaken identity, then. But it's half past four in the morning, and what sort of person arrives for a visit in the middle of the night? More to the point, the boy doesn't seem to be perturbed by seeing his host, and abandons his large bag on the floor in favour of staring. Rather than perplexity or confusion, he simply radiates hostility and annoyance.

And excess rainwater.

"You're dripping on my floor," is the first thing Hux says, then realises that perhaps a more salient matter should be addressed-- "Who _are_ you?"

The boy tosses his hair back at that (too-long hair, Hux notes, thinking that it's a ridiculous gesture made only more ridiculous by the fact that he flings water everywhere when he does it).

"You may address me as Lord Ren."

From the depths of his robes, he produces a datapad and smacks Hux in the chest with it.

"It's all explained here," he says, as if this explains _anything_ , and then heads for the hall, leaving a trail of water and confusion behind him. It's not until the door to the refresher closes that Hux realises he has himself been simply staring, wondering what exactly is going on. 

Possibly this is some kind of horrible prank. A couple of his friends from the Academy had been very into pranks-- though something on this scale would mean they'd upped their game in his absence. Possible, though, possible... Especially without Hux there to mediate their wilder impulses. 

And yet.

And yet, the datapad bears the official insignia of the office of Supreme Leader Snoke, and while his friends wouldn't be above paying some local oik to hammer on his door in the middle of the night, there was nobody of his acquaintance who would be so irredeemably foolish as to impersonate the Supreme Leader. In fact, if there was anyone so stupid in the entirety of the Order, Hux would be both surprised and disappointed, and also feel compelled to devoting himself to tightening their admission protocols even further.

With a sickly feeling settling into the pit of his stomach, Hux thumbs the pad to open its contents, already knowing it will have been keyed to his imprint if it is what he believes it to be.

As ever, he's not wrong.

 _Captain Hux,_ it reads, and he's not sure if he's more or less relieved by the discovery that it's only text and not an actual recording. Much as he'd appreciate such personal attention from the Supreme Leader, he's also just very slightly unnerving; a letter is quite personal attention enough for him for now. _I must congratulate you upon your recent promotion; an impressive achievement at so tender an age... Thus you are uniquely placed to fulfil a special role in an imperative mission, one that is integral to the success of our great Order..._

Hux reads the missive once, skims it the second time, then folds himself into a chair and reads it a third time, slowly, his hands in his hair and horror on his face.

 _Lord Ren_ still hasn't emerged from the refresher. 

The contents, so far as Hux can discern, boil down to three important facts, and one horrifying conclusion:

  1. This large and drippy child is in fact Lord Kylo Ren, master of the Knights of Ren, Leader Snoke's private, specialist, covert ops unit-- A.K.A his personal army of Force-sensitive attack dogs.
  2. The Knights, and Kylo in particular, are consequently of great importance to Leader Snoke, and although outside the usual military hierarchy under which the Order operates, are to be given respect.
  3. Leader Snoke has determined that Kylo, for all his prowess with the Force, has the social skills of a wet cat, so someone is going to having to teach him how to interact with his military counterparts.



The horrifying conclusion: _that someone is to be Hux._

Hux is expected to ferry him daily to the training centre that's been put aside for them where the boy will do whatever it is _Knights of Ren_ do, during which time Hux is to continue his work on the Trooper program. He is also, somehow, expected to use the time before and after to socialise Ren-- this without being permitted to introduce him to any of his friends (assuming he had any on this bothersome planet, which he doesn't, at present) or engage him in any of the usual bonding activities he'd enjoyed at the Academy and on his ship assignments afterward.

He's still staring at the pad when Ren emerges from the refresher, looking no older or less hostile, but at least markedly less damp, and is thankfully no longer dripping everywhere as a consequence.

"You understand the situation, then?" he says brusquely, and Hux automatically rises from his seat, unwilling to give the boy the ability to loom over him.

Given that Hux is still in his bare feet and Ren is wearing a pair of over-large and definitely-not-regulation boots, however, it doesn't prove as effective as he might have liked.

Still. No reason to quail, and no reason to start things off on the wrong foot.

His orders are to socialise the boy, which will be harder if there's an atmosphere between them, so Hux will try to keep things on an even keel, to be amenable. Better to try to smooth things over and start from neutral ground.

"Yes," he says carefully, then holds out a hand. "Captain Brendol Hux."

The boy looks at his outstretched hand as though Hux might use it to backhand him at any moment and is consequently considering preemptively chopping it off. Hux is nothing if not fearless and persistent, however, and so he waits until at last the boy decides no attack is coming and so no defence is needed, and eventually gives his hand a very brief shake with his gloves still on. 

"Lord Ren," he repeats, and seems almost absurdly eager to let go of Hux's hand, snatching his own away almost immediately and pressing it against his stomach like it's wounded. Hux almost has the impression he'd like to wipe it.

That he refrains from doing so gives Hux some kind of faint hope that he won't fail in this mission and that this feral child can perhaps be taught how to behave like a normal man.

...Which is good, because quite frankly: he can't afford to fail this mission. Leader Snoke's personal attention is a double-edged sword; succeed and you will find yourself a rising star, but fail and nobody will find you, not ever again.

He shuts his eyes briefly and swallows at the thought. When he opens them again, the boy is giving him the most curious look, part interest and part dismay, though it's immediately schooled into a sneer when he catches Hux looking.

"Where am I to stay?"

"Ah," Hux says, blinking, and then the rationale behind his original orders makes itself clear. _Travel to Nashon in Dosi System, and establish yourself in the city of Shawb. Accommodation will be provided. Continue your work on drafting Trooper Training Simulations until such time as further orders are provided._

That's exactly what he'd done. And he continues to feel perfectly justified in having assumed that he was meant to use the second bedroom for an office, considering the circumstances. 

"Given that I wasn't expecting your arrival--"

"Clearly," the boy interjects, casting a sweeping (and somehow disapproving, damn him) gaze over the length of Hux's nightclothed body. Hux grits his teeth and continues.

"--I've been using the second bedroom as an office, so I'll require some time to remove my personal effects."

"Do it in the morning," the boy says stubbornly, and Hux has the distinct impression that _morning_ to this intractable child probably begins around noon at the earliest. 

"There's sensitive information in there," Hux counters, and draws himself up to his full height. "While you may be outside the ranking structure of the Order's Navy, that doesn't mean I should facilitate you with information you aren't required to possess."

The boy gives him the once-over again, though it's less dismissive this time.

"Your orders explained the Knights?"

"In brief, yes."

He considers for a while, then tips his head. "Then I leave that to you. Go fetch your... _Sensitive information and personal effects_ ," he says, and lowers his lanky body onto the sofa, looking at Hux expectantly. "And you can bring my bag down while you're at it."

Hux manages to refrain from comment and makes his way to the office --the boy's room, to be more correct-- to strip it of his things. He's a minimalist in the main, and his belongings are sparse, so it doesn't take very long. When he returns, he expects the boy to have had the sense to remain where Hux had left him, or to perhaps have gotten himself a snack from the kitchen. Instead, he finds him pawing at Hux's small display of model Star Destroyers, lifting them up and inspecting them one by one.

Hux is, inexplicably, incensed. It's not the boy's fault, not entirely, and Hux _knows_ that. If anything, it's his own fault, for being so ridiculously stupid as to think he should make himself comfortable here, for it not being obvious to him that he had been stationed here as part of a two-man operation. The Order doesn't waste resources, and would never have given him such a large space all to himself, no matter how important his work or his background. He ought to have had the sense to keep his few things to his room and not spread them out around the apartment like he owned the place. 

And yet, he can't quite keep the words from spilling out of his mouth:

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Looking," the boy says, not taking his gaze from the model until he sets it down (relatively carefully, Hux notes with relief) and fixes Hux with a queerly intense expression. "You built these as a child."

It's not a question, but Hux treats it like one anyway. "Yes."

"With your father?"

A hint of question there, so Hux will take it. "Sometimes. He was a very busy man, but he thought it was useful for manual dexterity, improving spatial relations, parsing instructions, learning to plan and pace yourself and organise your tools, estimating completion times... That sort of thing."

The boy looks away, down at the models again.

"And for patience."

"Among other things," Hux says, and he can't get a read on this kid at all. He seems to flicker between burning interest and abject apathy-- looking at the models like they're telling him more than the relative dimensions of the different classes of destroyer, and looking at Hux like he's a shadow or a ghost.

Hux joins him at the display, careful not to get too close (Ren gives off the vibe of a jumpy animal that might react with violence if threatened) and lifts one of the ships himself. Imperial class. His personal favourite; the Executor class was grossly oversized, after all... Although he's always felt something a _little_ larger would be preferable. Rumour has it they're building something to that effect in the shipyards. Good. The Order needs more ships; the Imperials are verging on out-of-date now, though they'd been just about state of the art when Hux was a child.

In fact, this had been one of the first ships he'd completed, he remembers; turning it over in his hands, he can see the marks where the glue was applied just a little too sloppily in his haste to complete it. His father had been disappointed with his first two efforts-- upon returning from his trips to discover them still incomplete, he'd dispatched them in pieces to the recycling to impart the lesson that patience needed to be tempered with speed and decisiveness. His third effort had been this, and though his father had seen the marks where he'd applied too much glue too hastily, had only ruffled his hair and smiled. 

His fourth effort had been flawless, and it is this which is now being examined by the odd creature that is Kylo Ren. 

Hux takes the opportunity to examine him in turn.

He's a strange-looking boy; clearly considerably younger than Hux's twenty-two, but it's hard to estimate a specific age. Sixteen at least, Hux thinks, and perhaps nineteen at most. His size is impressive, but his face remains young-looking, largely dominated by his nose and an incessant flickering of expression which hints at being locked in some kind of constant battle with himself-- though the nature of that battle is beyond Hux's ability to determine. There is something about him though --the eyes, perhaps, or the mouth, or simply the way that he never seems to be at rest-- which is oddly appealing. Hux strongly suspects he might pass for attractive some day.

He's already taller than Hux (he can admit it), and broader across the shoulders in a way which will give him an impressive, looming presence-- if he ever learns to master his face, that is. In addition to his expressive features, it doesn't help that he also looks exhausted: heavy smudges under his eyes and a sort of slumped set to his shoulders speak to a sustained lack of sleep that makes him appear vulnerable and anxious, detracting from his authority. It also wouldn't hurt to do something with that mop of hair, either, Hux thinks critically, tilting his head a little.

The movement seems to draw the boy's attention and he drops the model, stepping back as if burned.

"I'm going to my room," he announces, as if this is a statement of which the entire planet should be made aware. Hux steels himself with a deep breath and tries to remember what it was like to be a child. 

He fails spectacularly; although he remains young now, he was never really a child in the sense that Ren seems to be still. 

It takes a moment before he can trust himself not to say anything so ridiculously offensive as 'So?' or 'And?' 

In fact, either one would be childish as well as offensive-- and as he registers that thought, he frowns; that sort of pettiness isn't like him.

Perhaps Ren is contagious. 

It's possible. Anything's possible. You never know with Force users, or at least Hux doesn't; Ren is the first he's met in person since he was a child, and those had been... Quite heavily sedated at the time, so he hardly thinks it counts.

"Wait a moment, please," is what he says instead, and Ren turns, watching him with those curious dark eyes. "I expect you have your orders here, as well."

"Yes," he says, and Hux waits a moment for his elaboration. When it doesn't come, he sighs.

"We've been given the exclusive use of a training centre on the outskirts of town. My orders are to bring you there daily. I'm assuming yous don't contravene that?"

"No," he says, and adds no more. Hux feels the strong urge to scream. Getting answers out of him is like pulling teeth. 

"Right. What I'm really looking for here, Lord Ren--"

"Kylo," the boy interjects, and Hux is beginning to get the impression that he only likes speaking when he gets to interrupt someone to do it. "You can call me Kylo, I suppose."

"Kylo, then," Hux says, and softens. "What I'm really looking for here, Kylo, is some sort of plan; a schedule. What time will you want to depart for training?"

Hux is of the opinion he's being very generous letting _Kylo_ be the one to make the call on their departure time.

"Whenever I'm up," he says, and Hux immediately regrets said generosity. "I'm usually up by dawn, though."

That surprises him, something which presumably registers on his face because there is a flash of cheeky amusement around the boy's lips before it disappears into his sulk again. 

"Probably not tomorrow, though," he adds, looking pensively at the window. It's still dark, but less so than when he arrived. "After lunch," he says decisively, and then heads for the door. He pauses, then, draws himself up to his full height, and Hux gets a glimpse, briefly, of what he could be when he is older and more solid and perhaps less conflicted within himself.

"If you need to wake me for some reason, do so from a distance."

With that, he turns and disappears with a swirl of black fabric in an action that is every bit as ridiculous as it sounds, entirely undermining his previous, very temporary, impressive stance. 

The words _are_ ominous, though, enough that Hux considers them as he pours a drink and moves to the sofa (still in his nightclothes) to contemplate this all for a little while. Night terrors, maybe, or simply a volatile disposition...? That combined with the Force seems like it could prove problematic. 

Hux had roomed briefly with a boy at the Academy who had come back a bit wrong-headed after a training exercise. He couldn't eat or sleep, and on the occasions where he _did_ drop off, he'd bring three or four dorms running with his subsequent screaming. The problem had been dealt with fairly swiftly enough, but the memory had lingered for Hux. Some people just can't take the strain, and while better intake assessments prevent the numbers from being large enough to pose a problem, there will always be a few that will slip through the net.

He wonders what the intake process for the Knights of Ren are. Perhaps they can discuss it at some point-- though he wonders how forthcoming Kylo will be in general, much less in the specifics. He doesn't seem given to sharing. Speaking of sharing...

Hux could really do with some further intel on the Knights and their relative ranking to his own. How mindful does he need to be of his own work around Kylo, and how mindful does Kylo need to be around him? Presumably the wouldn't be quartered together if it were truly a problem, but there's the slim possibility that it's another sort of test.

He mulls it over for a little while as the storm recedes outside and the sky begins to turn slowly to pink. 

There are a number of contacts he could work for this information, but the best would be his father: he's easiest, most accessible, and the most knowledgeable of all the people who'd be inclined to do him a favour. Besides which, Hux thinks, he could do with getting the opinion of someone he respected and trusted on the best way to proceed with this... Venture, and his father certainly has practical experience in the area.

He creeps silently down the hallway to listen outside the bedroom door; there are no sounds of wakefulness, or even life. The former is positive, the latter less so; while Hux has no personal investment in Kylo Ren, the tone of Snoke's missive strongly implied that Hux would be held accountable for anything that should befall him for the duration of their time together. 

He resists the urge to crack the door and peep inside. Instead, he returns to his bedroom, shuts the door tightly, and gets out his comm. He calculates the time difference between Nashon and the Academy Ship his father is currently presiding over, then decides it's an early, but not unacceptable, hour in which to be calling. 

The comm is answered promptly, but finds the Commandant blinking sleepily into the holocam. He looks tired, Hux thinks, and his throat tightens. There was a time when he could have contacted his father in the middle of the night and he'd have answered as sharp as a tack... But the man was over seventy now, and even his father was human, and subject to the ravages of age.

"Bren? Is there a problem?"

His father sits up, and Hux feels a little guilty now for calling him so early. He'd assumed-- Well.

"No problem, as such, but I do have a situation on which I'd appreciate your input."

"It's a little early for advice, my boy. You've woken your mother."

"No he hasn't," a grumpy voice corrects from off-screen. "Take that into the other room, Brendol, honestly. We've had this conversation before."

Hux suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at this long-distance exposure to his parents' domestic spats as his father sighs and heaves himself out of bed.

"And good morning, darling," he hears his mother murmur. Hux gives her an abashed little half-wave as his father carries the comm out to his study. 

"Now, my boy. What are we talking about here?"

"Clearance level Alpha 4 required, Sir," he says, recalling the security cert on Snoke's missive.

"Clearance level Alpha 4 present, Captain. Proceed."

It's an old ritual, one that dates back to his earliest days at the Academy, and which makes him smile faintly. Back then there wasn't the faintest chance that Hux would ever have been given information which was beyond his father's clearance level, but the Commandant had drummed the procedure into him anyway-- partly to make him feel more grown-up, and partly to ensure that he always checked, before speaking, that the person he was speaking to had the appropriate clearance for the discussion. It was a good habit, one he had nurtured into adulthood. 

(The fact that his mother had been privy to more of their conversations than she'd ever had the clearance for was never spoken of, not by any one of them.)

Back then, he had yearned for the day when his father would have to admit that he didn't possess the required clearance to continue. Now, he dreads the inevitability of it-- the slow creep towards the day the Commandant will retire, and what that might mean. 

"Have you been made aware of my current assignment?"

His father hums and parks himself in his large office chair, folding his hands in front of him.

"Some rumours might have crossed my desk, though I wasn't aware it had begun tonight."

'Some rumours might have crossed my desk' is probably the understatement of the century; Brendol Hux Senior is probably the second or third most connected man in the Order, after the Supreme Leader. There is, Hux suspects, very little that goes on of which he remains ignorant.

"A bit of warning might have been nice," he says churlishly. His father looks at him sharply, and suddenly his age seems considerably less apparent.

"Watch your tongue, Brendol." 

Oops; full-named. Perhaps time to dial it back a little. 

"Sorry, Father," he says, apologetically. "It's only that I feel I may not have handled the initial meeting as well as I might have done if I'd been properly prepared."

His father appears mollified, but only shrugs. 

"That was part of the test, of course," he says, and Hux is on that immediately.

"So it is a test."

"Isn't everything?" His father grins, and Hux can only snort and concede the point.

"What do you know about the Knights of Ren?"

"Not as much as I'd like," his father admits carefully. It's a secure channel they're using --it's always a secure channel-- but some things are perhaps best not admitted on any channel. "Enough to know that they're a recent enough development, but that Leader Snoke values them very highly. They're his own invention, at least in their current form, and not something we brought over from the Empire."

"And they're all Force users?"

"So far as I can determine." 

His father looks faintly disturbed by that, and Hux doesn't blame him. The Empire had been studying Force-sensitives to see if they could be useful-- although not his father's personal area of interest or expertise, some of those experiments had been conducted at the Academy, which had been known in certain circles as a place where those of an inquiring mind could pursue their academic interests without moral judgment. As a result, his father had known more about the Force and its users than most Imperials, and he had shared that knowledge with his son. 

Hux takes a moment to think back to his father's lectures at the Academy on Arkanis; although too young to attend classes formally, he'd spent quite a bit of time as his father's smaller shadow on campus, and in his Tower in particular. He vividly remembers being lifted up onto his father's shoulders to peer in at the subjects of Project-- The title is gone from his memory, lost to the intervening years, but the image remains clear: a boy, not much older than himself, sedated into sleep behind a transparisteel door. A Force user, his father had explained. A potential Jedi-- or perhaps something else, if the Empire could convince him around to the right way of thinking. 

Potentially useful, his father had admitted. But nothing so useful as a true army, one with mass numbers, and superior weaponry-- that's where the Jedi had failed, for all their sorcery.

That failure meant the Jedi were long gone by then, of course... But there was always the threat of their resurgence, and so the Empire had wanted their own company of Force users for that eventuality. 

Hux's father had thought it unnecessary, and he himself agreed. At the peak of their power, there had been thousands of Jedi. Since their extinction, however, it seemed as though Force users were few and far between. Where had they all gone? Genetically speaking, traits like that shouldn't dry up overnight-- and it couldn’t be attributed to the demise of the Jedi, either as they were almost never parents to begin with. One suggestion was that the Force, as a living thing, was infusing itself into fewer children these days.

Again, Hux had agreed with his father that this was unlikely, subscribing instead to the notion that without the Jedi Academy, most children simply never noticed their abilities, and if they did, they never developed them beyond parlour tricks and petty con artistry. 

There is potential there, though, Hux muses. If the Supreme Leader finds value in training these... Knights, perhaps it's worth considering again. After all, why choose between a great, true army and a small, specialised strike team when you could have both? 

"Have you met any of these Knights?"

"Not as yet," his father says, "Their function seems to be somewhere between acting as personal bodyguards and brutal errand boys. Snoke is very invested in this project-- oversees it personally, and so he keeps them very close at hand. I believe this is the first time one of them has been turned loose for anything more than a very brief and specific assignment. What can you tell me about the one currently in your company-- _Kylo_ Ren, isn't it?"

Now it's Hux's turn to hum while he considers. 

"Yes. He's-- Young," Hux admits. "Quite a bit younger than me, I should think. Not a child, but-- There's something child _like_ about him. And guarded. Very-- I probably shouldn't say feral, but that's exactly what I mean."

"And that's exactly why he's in your care," his father says, a wry smile on his lips.

"Did you put me up for this?" Hux asks, not entirely expecting an answer.

"Yes and no," he replies, which is about as illuminating as he'd expected, but then his father continues: "It wasn't my idea originally. But when I heard the task needed doing, I did suggest you for it. Who better, after all?"

Who better indeed, Hux thinks. He'd learned training techniques at his father's knee, as tester and as subject-- and even as the lesson once or twice. There is very little he doesn't know about the subtle art of sculpting and manipulation, and so he is particularly adept at noticing it now. His time at the Academy might have ended two years ago, but he suspects his father will never stop testing him.

There's as much relief in that as there is horror.

"I'm guessing that means I shouldn't expect much in the way of guidance on this issue, then," he says dryly, and his father only looks proud in response. 

"This one you'll need to handle primarily on your own, my boy," he says, and Hux holds his spine a little straighter in response. "Though I will say this much: the consequences to both you and your guest are more far-reaching than you might expect. To say that it would be worth your while to excel in this task would be an understatement, do you understand?"

Hux finds himself nodding; it's Pavlovian at this point. 

"I understand, Father. I won't disappoint you."

"See that you don't," his father says, then softens a little. "I have every confidence in you, Bren. Now if you don't mind, I think I'll retire to my bed for an hour. I'm taking the cadets on a field trip his afternoon."

"Anything fun?" Hux inquires, a little relieved to have departed from serious topics. 

"Anti-Grav Sim 4," his father replies, and Hux grins. One of his favourites-- at least on the viewing end. It's always horribly hilarious when the cadets suddenly find themselves plunged into a zero-gravity environment unexpectedly. 

"I'll let you get off, then. Send me the footage if any of them do anything too foolish."

"As always," his father replies, and inclines his head. 

"Give mother my love. And-- " His tone lightens even further, though this time around it's a little forced. "Would you like to be copied on my reports on my assignment?"

Not strictly protocol, but his father _does_ have the necessary clearance, and it's not as if he couldn't get his hands on them through other channels if he wanted. 

"I imagine they'll make interesting reading," his father says, smiles, and terminates the connection. 

Hux drops back against the headboard and puts his hands over his face. This is a lot. Really, a lot. The words _to say that it would be worth your while to excel in this task would be an understatement_ go around and around in his head. His father isn't a man who speaks lightly, and this is his way of saying that this is of extreme importance, to be prioritised at all costs.

Well then.

He can do that. Hux is nothing if not a man capable of adapting to excel.

He sets the comm aside and wriggles down in the bed, shutting his eyes. He's going to need a few good hours of sleep to deal with Ren later.

Given how the night has gone so far, it surprises him little that a rattling begins almost as soon as he has closed his eyes.

He ignores it at first, because it's small; and he thinks it might be the clothing refresher in the apartment next-door, but it begins to intensify, steadily at first, and then _sharply_ \-- sharply enough to be a concern, especially because once it reaches that level, it becomes quite clear that the noise is emanating from _inside_ his apartment.

Hux storms out to the hallway, fully expecting the source of the sound to be Ren's room. 

Which it is. 

Surely the ridiculous child could pick a better time for his Force training? Hadn't he been asleep not half an hour ago?

Hux knocks (bangs, really) on the door, but there's no response, only an intensified rattling and the sound of something _shattering_. That's quite enough, Hux thinks, and wrenches open the door-- Ren's privacy be damned. If he wants adult privileges like privacy, he can act like an adult and at the very least _inform_ Hux that whatever nonsense sorcery he would be working might potentially have destructive consequences. (Ideally, he could wait until they got to the training facility, but Hux supposes he can hardly fault the boy for his eagerness in wanting to begin work early. It's often how he feels himself, after all.)

What greets him inside is not at all what he was expecting; rather than Ren meditating or-- Well, whatever it is that Force users do, the boy is still in the bed, tangled in the sheets and _thrashing_ in a way that looks distinctly dangerous. 

The rattling sound had been coming from where the bedframe was vibrating against the floor. The shattering was the glass desktop. Now there's also an ominous creaking that Hux has a horrible suspicion is the fucking _walls_.

"Ren," he says, loudly enough to be heard in a crowded room.

No dice.

" _Ren_ ," he tries again-- a little louder, but he remains where he is; he instinctively knows that actually stepping _into_ the room would be a profoundly terrible idea, but when there is still no response, and that creaking comes again, he is beginning to run out of options.

He has the mad notion that he wishes he were wearing shoes so that he could throw one at him.

"Kylo fucking Ren, _wake up this god-damned instant_ ," he roars, after a moment's deliberation. Hux hates raising his voice, but he really has no choice at the present time. Thankfully, blessedly, it has the desired effect: the noises stop immediately and Ren jolts in the bed, not quite sitting up, as yet, but clearly coming to. He blinks stupidly around him, lost and terrified for a moment --it strikes Hux that he looks young, so young-- and then his expression changes into something a lot wilder and more dangerous and before Hux can even process it properly there's something in his hand and a red light flares into life.

Hux has a couple of concurrent thoughts in the seconds that follow, largely _Oh fuck_ and _An actual lightsaber; how fascinating_ and _I'm going to die_ and _This idiot needs to learn to control himself_ , all of which coalesce into what he eventually ends up saying, which is:

"Put that _away_ , Ren. You had a nightmare. You're awake now. And there's nothing to harm you here."

Ren looks at him for a long moment, weapon still at the ready-- and because of that, Hux expects to see the desire to attack in his eyes... But there isn't. There's just _blankness_ , and then a flash intelligence, wounded and sharp, briefly illuminated by the glow of the blade before the light is extinguished.

"I told you to call me Kylo," he says, voice rough from sleep. He reaches out to turn the light on and jerks his hand back when it meets broken glass. "...Ah."

Hux rolls his eyes.

"You idiot," he sighs. "Come with me, come on. Before you bleed all over the bed, and-- _Ren_ ," he roars again, for the second time in as many minutes. "Don't walk on the glass; have you no sense at all?"

Ren --Kylo-- pauses and glares at him from underneath his fringe; his ridiculous hair has become even more unruly from all his thrashing against the pillows. 

"More sense than the one who came in here while I was--" he stops then, either not entirely sure how to continue, or unwilling to expose to Hux whatever truth there was at the end of that sentence.

"I didn't have an enormous amount of choice, _Kylo_. You were five minutes from ripping our lodgings to shreds."

Kylo seems to hunch in on himself even more at that, shrinking almost, and looking slimmer and less intimidating for it. Under other circumstances, Hux would have considered it a tactical manoeuvre (he's certainly done the same himself innumerable times before; he is aware of his slighter stature compared to some of his peers, and deploys it to best advantage at every opportunity) except for the fact that there is obviously nothing left in the boy to be so cunning. The mulish, domineering (would-be domineering, anyway) man-child has vanished, and in its place seems to be a lost little boy.

"Come out and let's get you cleaned up. We'll worry about the... About the rest later."

'The rest' seems to be the lamp, the desk, and the bed-frame-- at a minimum. Hux sighs, already totting up the cost. He has been assigned an expense account for this, of course, but there's going to be a report required, requisition forms to fill in, removals expense... 

Kylo gingerly makes his way out of the room (avoiding stepping on the glass without being told this time, thankfully) and joins him in the hallway, still looking slightly beaten. Hux has the urge to prod at him to make him stand up straight again, but pushes it away.

"It really was just a dream," he says, in an effort to be comforting. Hux doesn't have a lot of experience with being comforting, so he's aware his abilities in this area might be... Limited. Practical advice, inspiration, suggestion, criticism, even the occasional joke-- No problem there. Comfort? Not really his wheelhouse.

"I killed them," Kylo says softly, eyes still on the floor as he passes Hux. "I killed them."

"...Well, that's good," Hux says, after a moment's pause, and follows him to the refresher. Kylo pauses in the doorway and looks back at him, eyes huge and dark and haunted in the dim light.

"Is it?"

"Yes," Hux says firmly, although technically he's not quite sure. For all he knows, it could have been the boy's parents in his dream. Still-- "Better than them killing you, isn't it?" he adds, hoping to clarify.

Kylo frowns, seeming to process this slowly, then parks himself on the edge of the bath.

"Better than them killing me," he agrees, and holds out his bleeding hand for Hux to work on.

To Hux's immense lack of surprise, Kylo turns out to be a fidgety, querulous patient who pulls a face at the application of the bacta and seems to strongly object to Hux touching any part of him with his bare skin. 

The cut is deep enough that it requires tiny glued sutures to hold it together, so Hux more or less has to hold his hand while he applies them. It's a medical procedure, nothing inappropriate or sexual or even friendly about it, but Kylo still shifts uncomfortably every time Hux's hand brushes his. It's hard to avoid that and do the necessary, though, especially when Hux is wearing standard-issue pyjama bottoms and a sleeveless undershirt, and Kylo is entirely shirtless and appears to have been sleeping in his training bottoms. 

Hux gives up bothering in the end, and simply kneels between Kylo's thighs, resting his injured hand on one of them so he can work. If Kylo doesn't like it, that's his problem; Hux isn't about to let him run around with an open, untreated wound to get infected, and his personal comfort level is of far less importance than his general health or well-being. 

If anything, Hux wonders if he should be insulted, but the fact that Kylo is radiating discomfort rather than disgust or unhappiness puts that out of his head. Whatever Kylo's problem is, it has nothing to do with Hux or any other specific individual. (It may, however, be something they need to work on in the future, considering his assignment.)

By the time he's finished, Kylo has slumped against the wall, and seems disinclined to get up when Hux rises from his knees to stand.

"You can sleep on the sofa for tonight," Hux offers, because he's not about to give up his bed because Kylo has had a bad dream and flesh wound. "We'll order new things later." He pauses, considers, and continues: "New, more durable things."

That actually gets him an almost-smile, the life seeming to come back into the boy's face. Well. That's better. He seems more human this way.

Kylo shuffles his way out to the living room and lies down on the sofa. He doesn't entirely fit, and has to hunch himself up a little. Hux observes this, then realises that Ren, the idiot, actually does seem to intend to sleep just like this. He returns to the bedroom, side-stepping the glass and bits of what he sincerely hopes isn't metal, to fetch a pillow and a blanket. 

Kylo's half-out by the time he returns, obviously wrung out from his complaining and his thrashing and his nightmares-- which is, Hux will realise later, the only reason he's able to nail Kylo in the face with the pillow. He gives an undignified squawk, and Hux only laughs as he drapes the blanket over his head. Kylo immediately paws it off and into his lap, glaring up at him, though his expression softens when he sees that Hux is more amused than actually mocking.

"Get some rest, Kylo; maybe it'll improve your reflexes."

Kylo wriggles himself underneath the blanket and works the pillow under his head. He looks, in that moment, like nothing so much as a child in need of someone to tuck him in.

Hux resists the urge, and instead heads for his bedroom. He's almost reached the hall when he hears, very softly--

"Hux? Thank you for fixing my hand."

It catches him unawares-- between Ren's general surliness and the fact that he had clearly been uncomfortable with the procedure, the last thing Hux had expected was thanks. When he looks back, all he can see is the top of Kylo's head, his large, dark eyes peering back at Hux from over the top of the pillow.

"You're welcome," he says, just as quietly, before locking himself inside his bedroom.

He doesn't expect to sleep; there is so much in his head, and frankly, he's half-expecting Kylo to have another set of nightmares he needs to deal with, so he figures he might as well stay awake and try to sort through it all. Sleep and Hux have never been close companions; it's an annoyance, often eluding him when it's the proper time for bed and reluctant to let go of him when it's the proper time to get up. 

Years of a fixed, military schedule have somewhat ameliorated the worst of his problems; he mostly wakes before his alarm now, and (a few nights after he first arrived on this damned planet aside) it no longer takes him ages to fall asleep, either. He fully expects that Kylo's arrival will herald fresh problems in that department... Though to his immense surprise, he falls quickly into slumber.

The last conscious thought he has is of the way Kylo had looked at him after he said thank you-- as if Hux's small, practical kindness had surprised him, as if he wasn't used to anyone doing anything for him at all. 

It's an image that remains with him while he sleeps-- though when he wakes, he won't remember his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from [Pygmalion and Galatea](http://www.bartleby.com/246/816.html):
> 
>  _I have powers denied to other men;_  
>  _Give me a block of senseless marble—well,_  
>  _I’m a magician, and it rests with me_  
>  _To say what kernel lies within its shell;_  
>  _It shall contain a man, a woman—child—_  
>  _A dozen men and women if I will._  
>  _So far the gods and I run neck and neck;_  
>  _Nay, so far I can beat them at their trade!_  
>  _I am no bungler—all the men I make_  
>  _Are straight-limb’d fellows, each magnificent_  
>  _In the perfection of his manly grace_
> 
> Come talk to me on the tumble machine! [@finalizer-psytech](http://finalizer-psytech.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, sinlings: I return with Chapter 2! From here on out, I am going to tentatively attempt a posting schedule: every second Sunday. I'm not sure how many parts there are going to be in total-- I had initially intended there to be around three, but it seems like there are going to be a few more now...! So we'll see how that works. 
> 
> There are three further fics and a prequel planned in this verse, with the end of the final fic already written, so it's just a matter of getting from here to there, so to speak. 
> 
> Beta thanks for this part go to the ever-delightful [Cathrine McCord](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CathrineMcCord/pseuds/CathrineMcCord) and the wonderful [zombiebrainsoup](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiebrainsoup/pseuds/zombiebrainsoup), who save me from myself and my unconscious repetition. Thanks go to the Sin Bin Gang for being a constant source of entertainment and support for this ship! Special thanks also to my Kylo, who knows who they are, and without whom I would probably never have attempted to write him. ♥

The alarm is what wakes Hux a few hours later, shrill and irritating, and he slaps it into silence perhaps a little more roughly than is necessary. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t wake before it went off, and between the blaring sound and the confusion at being roused from deep sleep, it takes him a few seconds of blinking before everything comes back to him. 

Kylo Ren. The mission. The nightmare. The destruction. The forlorn figure on the sofa.

Well then.

...He’s not nearly rested enough for this. 

Still, he heaves himself out of bed and sets about making it quickly (a habit ingrained before he even went to the Academy), then pauses. He wonders if Ren’s awake yet, and whether or not it would be poor form to use the refresher without checking with him first. Although the last few weeks mark the only time in his life that he has ever lived _alone_ , he’s never shared with anyone under these conditions before. Living with his parents, he always had a private suite-- and at the Academy, everything was scheduled and regimented. 

He can work out a rota with Ren --Kylo-- later, he supposes. They should share the household duties like cooking and cleaning, and each have their allotted time in the refresher. They can also, he sincerely hopes, work out a schedule for travelling to and from their training facility. 

Hux wonders about that; being that all of this was dropped on him quite literally in the middle of the night, he hasn’t had a chance to see the facility or what it contains. Honestly, he’s curious about what kind of training a Force user might engage in, and while his orders do not explicitly state that Hux is to supervise him while he does this, he _is_ going to need somewhere to work himself. If that place allows him to watch what’s going on with Kylo, all the better.

He opts to check in before using the refresher, expecting to find Kylo on the sofa, still asleep. Instead, he is already up and dressed: sitting in the kitchen, drinking juice out of a mug, and scoffing over a datapad ( _Hux’s_ datapad, as it happens). When he notices Hux, he looks up from over the rim of his mug and holds up the pad.

“Have you seen this?”

“No, Kylo, I haven’t, because firstly, I’ve been sleeping on account of having been so rudely awakened in the middle of the night, and secondly, _you have my pad_.”

Kylo doesn’t seem to be remotely abashed by any of this. 

“They’re saying they’ve peacefully annexed the Waldari System.”

“And?” Hux asks, setting some caf to brew.

“It’s wrong. I came through there on my way here. The shuttle still has the scotch marks.”

“...And?” Hux prompts again, vaguely baffled. “It’s a public broadcast; they’re hardly going to detail the specifics-- anyone could be reading it. The Republic monitors our press reports, you know.”

Kylo still seems irritated, and Hux was right: he definitely isn’t rested enough for this.

“I shouldn’t worry about it,” Hux continues. “You’re not considering a career in politics or PR, are you?” Ren looks at him like he’s sprouted another head. “Well, then. Not your department, so to speak, so there’s no sense in getting worked up over it.”

Ren still doesn’t seem to be able to process this, but Hux is too tired and too under-caffeinated to argue further. 

“I’m going to have a shower while my caf brews. Don’t interfere with it, and perhaps give the news a miss for a while if the lack of in-depth reporting is going to disturb you so badly.”

The look Ren shoots him is positively glacial, and Hux can’t help a smirk as he makes his way to the refresher. The thing is, he’s not usually an adversarial person; he finds it’s generally far easier to succeed when those around you don’t absolutely hate your guts, and it’s definitely easier to take out any threats when they absolutely don’t see you coming. Ren, though… There’s something about the boy that makes him want to prod and poke, to try to get a reaction. 

He can’t explain it. 

He doesn't have to be able to explain it, but he _is_ going to have to get a handle on it if they’re going to be working together. He frowns, turning on the water and stepping under the spray. He really will have to find a way; refresher breaks aside, Ren is going to be with him from morning through to night until this assignment has ended. That’s a long time to spend with someone in stony silence, for one thing-- and for another, constantly needling him won’t achieve the assignment objective.

Hux thinks about this as he washes his hair and then his body; making, as he always does, his plans for this day as he washes away the last, drafting a to-do list in his mind. Broadly, it looks something like this:

· **1a.** Determine Ren's level of skill in household duties (various).  
· **1b.** Draft a rota for household duties with ref. to (a).  
· **2a.** Determine Ren's level of skill with landspeeder piloting.  
· **2b.** Discuss Ren's needs and expectations regards training.  
· **2c.** Discuss travel schedule with Ren with ref. to (a) and (b).  
· **3a.** Determine Ren's current understanding of social niceties.  
· **3b.** Draft preliminary curriculum for Ren with ref. to (a).  
· **4.** Draft new personal schedule, allotting time for both assignments.  
· **5.** Order new furnishings for Ren's room.  
· **6.** Research the area surrounding the training facility for restaurants, etc.  
· **7a.** Study Ren.  
· **7b.** Befriend (?) Ren with ref. to (a); subdivide later after further analysis

In the five minutes it takes him to shower (another ingrained habit; although he does not have to restrict himself here the way he does on a ship, he thinks it is better not to let the habit lapse, lest he struggle when he returns to normal life), he has his plan for the day all mapped out. He returns to his room and dresses, reappearing just as his caf is ready. His hair is still damp-- but like the rest of him, it's now in considerably better shape.

He sips his drink while he considers the best way to broach the topic of household duties with Ren; while Hux himself has always considered it important to never think himself above simple tasks, he's uncertain the same will hold true for Ren. However, he'd been wrong about his propensity for over-sleeping, so perhaps Hux isn't giving him enough credit here, either.

"Have you eaten?" He considers this a nice, neutral opening.

"Rations," Ren supplies, without looking up from the pad. He seems to have shifted from the newspaper to something that looks like a technical manual, for which Hux is grateful. "I brought some with me."

Hux contemplates this for a moment, wondering if it is a deliberate choice (similar to Hux's own timed showers), or simply a result of Ren not knowing his way around a kitchen. 

"I'm going to make eggs," he says carefully, after a moment. "If you want some, it's no trouble to make enough for two."

Ren looks up from his (Hux's, actually; he doesn't want to forget that) datapad and fixes him with a stare so intent it's unsettling. He doesn't seem to have the slightest idea how to achieve a proper, appropriate level of eye-contact; it's either complete evasion or outright staring, neither of which are remotely normal. 

Hux mentally adds that as Point One on his curriculum. 

"Okay," Kylo says eventually, after the longest pause-- an entirely unnecessary pause, really, especially when having been asked as simple a question as _Would you like some breakfast?_ Something else to raise with him later, perhaps. Unless he'd been debating whether or not to break his rations-only diet...? He's going to have to inquire, Hux realises.

As he starts the food prep, he can feel the weight of Kylo's gaze on him, as awkward and oppressive as the rest of him, but Hux keeps his own attention firmly fixed on the matter at hand... Though after a moment, he does ask:

"Do you cook at all, Kylo?"

"No," Kylo says flatly, and there goes that hope.

"I see." Hux purses his lips and chances a glance upwards. "In that case, I think it's time you learn."

Amusement flickers across Kylo's face, warring with annoyance. 

"I doubt the Supreme Leader sent me here to learn how to cook."

"I doubt the Supreme Leader had a specific curriculum in mind for your time here, or else he would have provided one. As it stands, he saw fit to delegate the matter to me, and I consider it... A necessary lesson."

"Why? I have no need of it." Kylo looks briefly murderous then, so Hux softens his approach. He can only assume from the boy's reaction that he's touching on some greater wound than a missing skill, and perhaps a little finesse would be useful.

"It's not a _punishment_ , Ren. It's a useful ability, nothing more. In the normal course of your duties, no, you may not ever need to utilise it. But exceptional circumstances have a way of presenting themselves," he says wryly, shooting Kylo, his own personal _exceptional circumstance_ , a look. "And they're generally unforeseen when they do. Don't you think it best to be as prepared as possible for every eventuality?"

Kylo seems to consider this for a moment, studying Hux, and he has the distinct impression that he's being examined for signs of some kind of falsehood. There are none; although Hux is as capable of wielding deception as any other weapon, artifice isn't usually something he needs to employ. Manipulation is always more effective with honesty, after all; lies invariably unravel, but a truth, even a twisted truth, will always bind. Hux is not attempting to diminish or unman him here; all he intends to do is teach the boy how to cook because it is a valid, practical skill which can be useful in a variety of circumstances, from increased chances of survival when stranded on a strange planet without rations to impressing your peers to simply being able to provide yourself with something better tasting than officer's synthsust. 

Apparently convinced, Kylo slips off his stool and into the small galley, immediately crowding into Hux's personal space.

He sighs internally. Point Two on the curriculum, then. _Personal Space: A Concept You Should Come to Understand and Violate Only for Tactical Reasons._ Now is not the time to go into it, though; Ren seems to be amenable to instruction for the moment, and Hux doesn't want to rock the boat with asides or rebukes. 

"Eggs can hardly be complicated," Ren remarks, directly over his shoulder. 

Well, Hux thinks, at least he's close enough to pay attention. 

"Not really," Hux admits, shrugging. "You just need to be mindful of the timing and the temperature and the consistency. And the chemistry of it, I suppose."

This is not, perhaps, the finest example of his teaching-- but then again, as with everything thus far in this exhausting venture, it is off-the-cuff, and he has had no time to plan. Hux definitely intends to rectify that as soon as possible, but it will have to do for now. 

Ren snorts. "Where did we leave 'not really complicated'?"

Hux shoots him a mild glare of his shoulder. "It's _not_ complicated. But if you get the timing wrong, the different components will be cooked to the wrong degrees-- literally and figuratively. If you get the temperature wrong, you'll burn them. If you get the consistency wrong, it won't taste right at best, and won't cook right at worst. And if you get the chemistry wrong..." He shrugs. "Then you might as well just have opted for the rations," he finishes, rather lamely, and is glad that Kylo is behind him where he can't properly see his face.

There is blessed silence from the peanut gallery while Hux whips air into the eggs, adds fat to a pan on low heat, and pours them in. He bends down to ensure the mixture is evenly distributed, and hears a muffled laugh behind him.

He turns, irritated, though it lessens a little when Ren appears to be genuinely amused rather than mocking. 

"What?"

"You care about this," Ren says, tilting his head a little. "You want this to work right."

"Well of _course_ I do," Hux responds, exasperated by his continuous need to state the obvious. "I don't enjoy burnt food, and I don't enjoy--"

"Failure," Ren interjects. Well. Finishes, really; it might not have been what Hux was going to say, but it was certainly what he meant. 

"Does anyone?" Hux asks, deflecting a little as he turns back to the pan to jiggle it. 

Ren hums behind him. "Not many," he concedes. "But I don't think most people are quite so bothered by it as you, _Brendol_." 

"Bren," Hux corrects, automatically, though it occurs to him that he should be pressing for _less_ intimacy right now, not more. Ren is so close that Hux can feel his breath on the back of his neck. "People usually call me Bren."

A slight overstatement, but only slight. He'd been Bren first, to his family and friends, and 'Young Hux' to all others. He soon became Cadet Hux, and then Lieutenant Hux-- and now he's Captain Hux. He doesn't intend to stop there, of course: someday he will be General Hux, with the entire fleet at his command. Preferably before he gets too old to enjoy it. Even then, however, those closest to him (a number which he's noticed regrettably but necessarily dwindles as he rises through the ranks) will still call him Bren. 

The fact that he thinks of himself simply as Hux --has always thought of himself simply as Hux-- is incidental.

"Well," he adds, "Those people who elect not to refer to me by rank do, at least." This time, it is a smile that he aims over his shoulder in Ren's direction: wry, but not admonishing, and present only for a moment before he turns his attention back to the food, removing a small bag of washed greens from the chiller and beginning to chop them.

"Would you prefer Captain?" Kylo's voice is deceptively even, and Hux thinks he can smell a trap here.

"Not really," he says, after a moment's (exaggerated) consideration. "You're not expressly mine to command, nor am I yours. And considering we're going to be working together..." He shrugs and examines the eggs again, determining they're solid enough now to be flipped.

"Is that what you call this? _Working together_?"

Hux keeps his gaze firmly on the pan as he flips the omelette.

"In the best of circumstances, yes," he says, careful to keep his voice neutral. "What would you call it?"

"That depends, _Bren_. What were your orders?"

Well. Hux had known it was going to come to this, eventually, though he had hoped that it would be later rather than sooner. Tell the truth and risk alienating him, or lie and risk alienating him? The best course of action, Hux thinks, depends on how much Kylo already knows. 

Of course, asking after that _now_ would make his intentions too obvious. Damn and blast.

...So. A partial truth, for now, to see how it goes down.

"To train you socially. Leader Snoke feels that your social graces require some polish."

He deliberately keeps his own opinion out of it, but Kylo is on that immediately.

"And what do you think?"

"I think you're very sharp," Hux admits, tilting his head to watch him. It's true, and it's a compliment, so he might as well pass it across in the hopes of building bridges. It earns him a flicker of a smile in response, so Hux takes it as a win before continuing with what he knows will lose him any points he might have scored previously. "...But yes, I do also see some things which could use refinement."

Kylo raises a brow, inviting him to continue, and Hux sighs. In for an ounce, in for a pound, he supposes.

"You struggle with eye contact and invade personal space. You interrupt, you condescend, you deliberately rile. You stomp and glare and your posture is god-awful. Your manipulations are obvious; you lack subtlety, and while I think you probably have the potential for charm, you don't employ it. You possess nothing resembling real discipline-- Look, you've left your blanket in a ball on the sofa, and your mug on the counter, and there are crumbs from the ration pack you ate all over the floor... 

"And finally," he adds, because he can see Kylo's reflection in the mirror by the door, and it is livid. There are two spots of colour high on his cheeks and his full mouth has compressed into so tight a line it is barely a slash across his face. "...Finally, your face telegraphs your every thought." 

He dials down the heat, then turns to face Kylo. The difference in height is less marked between them now that Hux is no longer barefoot, but it's still enough that Kylo seems to loom a little, glaring down at him like a particularly personal thundercloud. His mouth works for a second and he can't seem to get a sound out, hands clenching into fists at his side. 

Hux thinks it better to cut him off at the pass before he ends up with a split lip-- or worse. 

"You'd like to strike me right now; I can see it. But I've said nothing that wasn't in your best interest, and there's none of it that can't be fixed with a bit of effort on your part and mine. So, _Kylo_ : those were my orders, and yes, Kylo: in the best of circumstances, we would work together so that I can accomplish my mission and you can accomplish yours, because I highly doubt that you were sent here to defy me and refuse to learn anything. It's to our mutual benefit to cooperate and get the thing done."

"Anything else about me you'd like to... _Refine_?" Ren grinds out, and Hux is fairly certain he can see actual murder in his eyes. It's the first time he has looked effectively intimidating (intentionally, at least) since he arrived, and although Hux is impressed, he refuses to capitulate to it. (Though he thinks he may comment on it later; in this, at least, he is adequately skilled.)

"Yes; your hair is too long and you keep flinging it about dramatically. I'm not sure it works with the rest of the image you're going for," Hux says, brazen, his gaze never leaving Ren's. 

He is, in all honestly, expecting (at the very least) to be shoved, and is keenly aware of the limited distance between himself and the hot surface behind him; instead Kylo surprises him by barking out a laugh, stepping back, and skulking his way back to his stool. The tension seems to have ebbed out of him-- and rather than murderous, he now looks interested and contemplative. 

For some reason, Hux feels this more of a concern. 

"You're very honest," he says, after a minute. 

"When it suits my purposes," Hux agrees carefully, and adds the vegetables he'd chopped to the pan, watching them wilt slowly. 

"I don't like it when people lie to me."

"Most people don't."

"I _really_ don't," Kylo says, tipping his chin up. "And I can tell when they do. So I wouldn't recommend it."

Hux gives him a half-glare.

"Can we add 'Drops unnecessary ominous threats' to the list of things you need to work on, as well? You need to learn when intimidation would be useful and when it wouldn't... Although I will confess that you do a good line in it," Hux admits. Kylo seems to puff up a little at that, something which Hux notes with internal delight. _Responds well to praise._ Good. Excellent, even. Yes; he can work with that.

He removes the eggs and vegetables from the pan and spoons them onto two plates, pushing one across the counter to Kylo and taking a seat opposite him. 

"I think we can also add 'Causes distraction during lessons he doesn't wish to complete', too," Hux says dryly. "Although to be fair, that was as much my fault as yours; I allowed it to happen, so really, I take responsibility."

Kylo considers his eggs before responding, taking a slow bite. He looks at first surprised, then immeasurably pleased, and finally suspicious. Hux rolls his eyes and begins to eat his own portion. 

"There's nothing worrying in there, Ren," he sighs. "Firstly, you saw me cook it, and secondly? If I wanted you out of the way, I can assure you that the last thing I would do would be to _poison you_ in our _own quarters_. Honestly, what sort of idiot do you take me for?"

He is, in fact, legitimately offended.

Ren looks amused, though, and begins to eat again.

" _Firstly_ ," he says, mimicking Hux's tone and cadence if not his accent, "that wasn't what I was thinking. And _secondly_ , I don't think you want to harm me at all. I'm your big shot at making a good impression on the Supreme Leader." 

Well, he's not wrong, and Hux isn't about to argue the point.

"Eat your breakfast, Kylo," is all he says, and then reaches across the counter to pluck up the datapad from where Kylo had abandoned it earlier. It's skipping ahead on his to-do list to address the issue of Ren's damaged furniture, but that is at least something he can do over breakfast without ruffling Ren's feathers any further. 

He requisitions a new bed, desk, mirror, and lamp, requesting those of the most durable materials available, and an engineering crew to assess and perform any structural repairs needed, citing "storm damage" as the reason for the destruction. It won't stand up beyond the most cursory examination, but Hux has the strong impression that nobody is going to look too closely at his requests for the duration of this assignment. He could probably take advantage of that, but-- No. Why take the risk? There's nothing he wants that badly. 

He does wonder if he'll have to do this again, though. Given his relative nonchalance last night, it seems plausible that Kylo has a track record of this sort of thing, which does beg another question...

"Kylo?"

"Mm?" Kylo looks up from his eggs, and yes: Hux definitely has to ask. When he'd been looming over him earlier, he had looked nothing but ageless and intimidating; now he looks like a child again.

"How old are you?"

Kylo narrows his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I'm curious and trying to make conversation, and this is going to be a despairingly dull couple of weeks or months if we can't even pass the time with idle chatter."

He seems to consider this for a while before grudgingly confessing: "Eighteen."

"Ah," Hux says. "Not so much younger than myself, then."

Eighteen. That seems reasonable; at the upper end of Hux's original estimation, but fitting well with his ability to segue from menacing adult to rootless child and back again. Another reason why Snoke assigned Hux to this mission, then; as well as his particular experience with teaching, he's probably the youngest of the officers to hold his rank and clearance, and presumably there had been some hope that Hux would be able to relate to him on a personal level. 

Hux can't. At all. 

But he _can_ work with this, he supposes-- With Ren. Eighteen is too old, really, for proper training... But probably salvageable, given the boy's childishness. He's potentially still malleable enough, all things considered. 

Hux's own training in all of these matters began before he can properly remember it; some of his earliest memories are of his father teaching him how to inspire and cajole, or of his mother teaching him that it was often simpler and more expedient to out-smart your enemies than out-and-out threaten them. There had been etiquette lessons with his personal droid, too-- everything his parents deemed too dull to bother teaching him themselves: things like giving proper greetings, and how to manage formal dress, and how to handle oneself at the table.

That last, at least, seems to be something that Kylo needs no help with. To be entirely honest, Hux had expected him to eat like a savage, but there's a precise, civilised aspect to his motions which is a pleasant surprise. Hux watches him while he sips at his caf, and eventually Kylo catches wise to this. 

The way he tips his head in response is entirely feral, and predatory, and not civilised at all. 

"Now who's being inappropriate with eye contact?"

"That's not _eye contact_ , Ren; I was... Assessing you."

"Assessing me." Kylo's voice has taken on that flat tone again, the one that seems to mean trouble is brewing.

"Assessing you," Hux confirms. "I'm going to need to know the answers to some questions if we're to proceed... And I'm not sure how aware you are of the answers-- or how likely you are to be honest about them, either."

Kylo is very clearly _assessing_ Hux in return, though Hux refrains from pointing that out. 

"Assessing me for what?" is what Kylo says eventually, and Hux optimistically thinks this might be the conversation finally headed in a useful direction.

"To establish a baseline regarding what I need to teach you," he says, entirely honestly. "I don't have a full curriculum for you, as yet, but I intend on sketching one out today while you're training. In order to do that, however, I need to know where you're starting out from."

"You seemed to have plenty of opinions earlier." Ren's lip curls a little at the memory, and Hux figures he should probably move things on a bit before Ren can linger.

"Those will be things we'll want to address, yes," Hux says, mindful to use the word _we_. (One of those lessons on how to inspire and cajole had focused very heavily on the inclusion of others to make them part of things, to make them feel important, to make them feel seen and valued.) He considers Kylo for a moment, their gazes meeting. "But I'd also be interested to know what _you_ feel needs improving." (Another lesson: your subordinates are an asset; acknowledge and use their skills and experience where they differ from your own. Admittedly Ren isn't exactly his subordinate, but for the purposes of the exercise, Hux thinks he's close enough.)

"Nothing," Ren grinds out, and Hux tries very hard not to sigh. 

"So you think the Supreme Leader is wrong?"

Kylo glowers at that, but when no immediate rebuttal comes, it seems he's taken Hux's point. He looks back at his plate again, and Hux allows him a few moments to eat and gather his thoughts.

"It's been a long time since I've been around other people aside the Supreme Leader." Another pause, longer this time. "...And the other Knights, I suppose. But even that's been a... Recent development."

"And?" Hux prompts gently, waiting for a response. 

" _And_ ," Kylo adds, looking mutinous again. "I'm not used to it anymore. People say what they don't mean, and don't say what they do mean." His gaze flares with anger cuts away, down to his plate. "They're liars, and they're lazy and weak and frightened. And-- Small. They're all... So small, in their minds: petty considerations and limitations and understanding."

"So use that," Hux says. Kylo's head snaps up like it's on a string, eyes narrowed in a way that suggests his usual suspicion, but there's also something... Sadly hopeful in it. 

"Use it," he repeats. "It annoys you-- of course it does. It should. People are disorganised and messy and undisciplined and full of lies and sad attempts at sad manipulations to benefit their own sad ends. Did you expect me to disagree? I won't; it's true. But you can use that, Kylo, to put yourself in a better position. You can take advantage of that."

"Does that mean you're taking advantage of me now?" Kylo asks, and there is so much intensity in his face when he says the words that it's hard to look at him.

"Of course I am," Hux says gently. "Every word out of my mouth is a manipulation. But that's true of _everyone_ , Kylo. All the time. Everything anyone ever says to you is a manipulation." He tips his head, the tiniest smile curving his lips, as he remembers his father telling him almost exactly this, word for word, so many years ago. 

"Do you know how many types of sentence there are, Kylo? There are four: declarative, imperative, exclamatory, and interrogative. Declarative: to convey information or idea. Imperative: to issue a command. Exclamatory: to convey information or idea more intensely. Interrogative: to express a desire for information." 

He watches Kylo take this in, rapt, and for the second time since the boy arrived, he feels that there is something here, some connection, some possibility that they will be able to build something-- a chance that Hux will be able to do something for him, with him, to him.

"Everything I've said to you since you've arrived falls into one of those four categories... But so has everything you've said to _me_. You told me about the Knights and how you felt about other people -- declarative. You told me not to lie to you -- imperative. When you complained about being left outside in the rain last night -- exclamatory. You asked if I were taking advantage of you-- interrogative."

Hux tips his head to mirror Kylo's pose and reaches for his caf again.

"We all do it, all of us. All the time. Every time we open our mouths. Every word designed to impose some effect on the universe and the people around us. Nobody talks just because they like the sound of their own voice."

"You seem to," Kylo says, but there's amusement in his voice rather than venom, and Hux only rolls his eyes in response. Whatever he says, Hux can see his words have hit home; Ren looks more thoughtful and less guarded than before. 

"I said not _just_ because, Ren," Hux says imperiously. "There's room for that, too." It's an admission, of sorts-- but it has a purpose, as well, and it finds its mark when the corners of Kylo's ridiculous mouth turn upwards and into something that's almost a grin. Hux takes it as a definite win, and continues. 

"But to return to topic... Yes. I'm taking advantage. I'm trying to manipulate you. And you're taking advantage and trying to manipulate me. That's all right. It doesn't mean we're not on the same side or that we can't work together or get along or do something good together. It doesn't mean that I wish you ill or that you'll come to harm from it. What's important is figuring out the other person's intentions and determining whether or not you're _willing_ to let them take advantage and manipulate you because it suits _your ends, too_."

He props his chin on his hand and takes a long sip from the cup, studying Kylo: looking at his expression, his posture, and the way he holds himself, getting a feel for him. Hux has spoken only the same simple truths on which he was raised, but Ren is looking at him as though Hux is drawing back the veil of the universe for Kylo alone. Something about the light in his eyes and the intensity of his gaze makes Hux feel tight in the chest and heavy in the stomach.

He is beginning to think that perhaps there is no reason to resent this assignment after all. This is real responsibility, this is what real power truly is: to hold someone's future in your hand as you guide them towards it. Kylo Ren might be just one boy, and not world or a galaxy, but there is still influence in this, and Hux finds that intoxicating.

"...So. Given all of that: do you find yourself willing? Are you prepared to let me use you, so that you might use me in turn?"

"Yes," Kylo breathes: slow, sure, and utterly-- Oh. _Oh_. 

Well.

Hux can work with that, too, he thinks. His smile is tight, small, and a cover for the immense level of _satisfaction_ he feels at the breathiness in Ren's voice.

"Well then," he says, after only a brief pause. "In that case, I would very definitely call this _working together_ , Kylo."

He drains the remainder of his caf and takes the mug and their plates, scraping the remains into the food recycling before putting the kitchenware into the dishwasher. He takes the time away from Kylo's intense gaze to consider where to go from here, allowing for this new information.

In addition to praise, Kylo Ren responds well to instruction, if delivered in the right way, and by someone who is direct and honest with him. In fact, he seems to be somewhat... Aroused by it.

This is positive. Hux can leverage this. 

That Hux is aroused by this in turn is less positive. He cannot leverage that at all, and trying would most likely result in giving Kylo leverage over him, instead.

 _Use and be used_ indeed, he thinks dryly. 

Still. There are things he can take from this, and take them he will.

When he turns, it's with a renewed sense of purpose. 

"I'm going to draw up a rota for the household duties which splits the tasks evenly between the two of us. When you don't know how to do something, you ask me, and I will teach you. If you feel something's unfair, you may raise the issue, but the final decision rests with me. I am not here to be your nanny droid, and I will not brook you doing nothing while I exhaust myself cleaning up your messes. Understood?"

"All right," Kylo agrees, and something thrills within Hux at it.

"A very large part of your... Problem is owing to a lack of discipline," Hux says, leaning over the counter again, arms folded neatly in front of himself.

Kylo is watching him again with that curious mixture of needful curiosity and predatory intent, which is something that Hux is going to have to ruminate on at greater length later. So far, at least, it seems as though his assumptions have been correct, and he seems to be playing his hand the right way. For the moment, all he can do is continue. 

"So," Hux continues, "That's what we'll work on first. Schedule. Structure. Obedience," he says, and his lips twitch a little at Kylo's response. "I'll be honest with you, and fair. I won't ask you to do anything I haven't done myself. You're not an officer cadet or a trooper in training, and I accept that-- but neither are you so far removed from our hierarchy that you cannot benefit at all from our routines, or you wouldn't be in my..."

"Care?" Kylo suggests, and there's something in his expression which is both wolfish and uncertain.

"Care," Hux agrees, although with a certain measure of internal wincing. He has, since his very first assignment as a Cadet Lieutenant, been mindful to the extreme of the welfare of those under his command; the prospect of being attracted to someone in his care doesn't sit well with him.

Then again, some traitorous part of his mind supplies, "in his _care_ " doesn't mean "under his _command_ ", does it?

Something else to consider later.

He stands.

"I'm going to get my things together. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes-- and you can fold that blanket and sweep up those crumbs while I'm gone, too."

Kylo rolls his eyes, but Hux notices before he leaves that Kylo picks up his juice mug and puts it into the dishwasher. Small beginnings, he thinks, but a good start all the same.

By the time he returns, the blanket has been folded (not perfectly, but there will be time to comment on these things later), the crumbs appear to be gone, and Ren has perched himself on the arm of the sofa with Hux's datapad again.

"Don't you have one of your own?" Hux asks, lifting it from between Kylo's fingers to tuck it into his bag. He's going to need that for his own work while Kylo is training, and he highly doubts that Kylo, Knight of Ren, does the type of training that involves much reading or writing.

Kylo looks, for the first time, vaguely shifty. 

"It was damaged on the way here," he says. Hux knows a lie when he hears one, but he decides to let it pass for now, filing the information away for later. 

"Ah," he says. "Well, you'll need to get one; you can't keep stealing mine. I need it. And I don't share well. I'll add it to my requisitions list." 

Kylo looks like he might say something, but ultimately remains quiet, so Hux calls up the list and adds a datapad to it; fortunately his order hasn't been approved as yet, and so can be amended.

"It seems it hasn't gone through yet, so we can hardly expect it tomorrow. I think you're on the couch for another two nights, Kylo." 

Kylo glares up at him as he puts the pad away.

"If you're going for _fair_ , shouldn't we trade for the bed?"

"Absolutely," Hux replies. "As soon as we're down to one because I've broken mine as well, then we can trade."

Kylo purses his lips at that and finally rises from the sofa.

"I didn't do it _intentionally_ ," he grouses, and Hux rolls his eyes. 

"I know. You were dreaming."

"I wasn't--" Kylo starts, then seems to think the better of it, and only shrugs. "And," he says instead, "You never apologised for leaving me standing around outside last night, either."

"I didn't do it intentionally," Hux replies, fighting a grin as he steps outside. The storm has passed entirely, and though there are puddles in places, the sky is a beautiful clear blue.

So, fine; there are a few things about living planetside which he doesn't absolutely loathe. Hux admires it for a moment before he realises that Ren is admiring _him_. All very flattering, of course, but as likely to be a problem as it is to be helpful.

He says nothing, only leads Ren towards the small speeder he'd secured after landing on the planet. Sleek and bottle-green, it hovers near the footpath a few steps from the entrance to his --their, now, he supposes-- building. 

He pops the canopy, and waits for the rainwater to drain away before hopping inside.

"Do you pilot?" he asks, and _that_ certainly shifts the dopey, interested look from off Ren's face, replaced with purest weary teenage disgust.

Oh, to be young again, Hux thinks, but wisely does not say.

"Obviously," Ren drawls, and heaves his large frame into the speeder. He's too big for it, nearly, and has to push the seat all the way back to make room for his legs. He then proceeds to sprawl obscenely in his tight training gear, and Hux is glad that he's required to direct his attention to the controls as he thumbs the canopy back into place and sets the destination coordinates.

"Good," he says. "In that case, you can drive us there in the mornings, and I can drive us home." Kylo makes a noncommittal sound as Hux pulls the little vehicle out into the slow stream of passing traffic. Once they're settled, he cuts a glance to the passenger seat. "Was that a yes or a no? You can do the evening run if you prefer; I only imagined you'd be tired."

Kylo is silent for a minute, and Hux can't take his attention off the traffic to scrutinise him in an effort to discern what wheels are turning in his head. 

"That's thoughtful," is what Ren says, eventually, and Hux frowns a little.

"It's practical," he corrects. "It only makes sense."

"Won't you be tired, too?"

"My training is of a very different stripe than yours," Hux responds, and then thinks to add-- "I'm assuming, at least."

Ren mulls that over for a little while.

"What is it you're doing, anyway?"

While he does not, as yet, feel comfortable sharing specifics with Kylo (he mentally adds an eighth item to his List: Check Ren's Clearance Level), it is no secret what his current role is within the Order.

"I'm working on the new Stormtrooper Program," he says carefully. "Designing training and evaluation scenarios. The Empire had a great many good ideas, but their approach to their footsoldiers was... Shall we say, lacking?" He shrugs. "I'm looking to see where we can make improvements regards selection and training and testing. Similar to our officers, if we choose the right people and educate them in the right way, we can build proper champions of the Order." 

"Why not consider using a Clone Army?" Kylo asks. Hux can feel his nose wrinkle automatically at the thought. There really is so much the boy has to learn. 

Well. 

That is why he's here, Hux supposes. No reason to get shirty with him for the ignorance he's been sent here to correct.

"Aside from the rampant genetic vulnerabilities and the tendency of the people to consider them a lesser order of humanity, you mean?" Hux shrugs and signals to make the upcoming turn indicated on the dash. "They're expensive, for one thing. For another, you have to outsource them, and they're reliant on the donation of genetic material from a single individual-- which really needs to be a superior example of humanity, and the majority of those aren't too keen on the thought of a few million versions of themselves scampering about and being used for cannon fodder."

Ren suppresses a soft snort at that.

"Are you telling me you wouldn't like a clone of yourself, Bren?" He sounds highly skeptical. "Someone who could cook your eggs just the way you like, and make sure the blankets are properly folded --yes, I saw you looking-- and write your reports _just so_ while you catch up on your sleep, maybe?"

Hux is very slightly rattled by Ren's unnervingly accurate assessment of his character, because quite honestly, it _would_ be nice to have another version of himself around. He'd certainly get more done, and it would be a delight to know that there was someone around who was absolutely reliable. 

Still. 

He has to believe that if he works hard enough on his training simulations for the Troopers, and if they tighten the entry requirements enough for the Officers, he _will_ be surrounded by other people he can rely on. 

No clones needed.

"No," he says primly, and turns off the main thoroughfare into a smaller street. "I would prefer to see my _training_ put to good use by those who had the benefit of it. Which only reminds me that I need to teach you how to fold a damn blanket."

Kylo laughs at that, harder than perhaps Hux would have expected, and he sneaks another glance across to the passenger seat to see if it's mocking or feigned. It isn't; Kylo simply seems genuinely amused and actually _relaxed_ \-- over-reclined, as he is, in the passenger seat. Hux allows him a small smile before he returns his attention to ensuring they arrive at their destination in one piece.

The training center he's been directed to is on the outskirts of the city, but it's a small enough urbanisation that it doesn't take them too long to reach their destination. It's a part of town that Hux hasn't visited before; he has, thus far, preferred to keep to the area immediately around his (their) apartment, venturing out only for supplies, or to take a drive to clear his head. 

It is, so far as Hux can tell (with his limited experience) a suburban sort of place: a neat street evenly populated with little houses and small apartment complexes. There appears to be a park of some kind at one end, and a shopping complex at the other. Up a small leafy laneway, the training facility stands apart from the other buildings-- a large and clearly repurposed structure that might have, at one time, been some sort of church. 

He parks the speeder beside the gate to the laneway, entirely baffled as to why they've been quartered so far away from it when there's plenty of accommodation here. Surely it would make more sense to--

No. He stops that line of thinking before it can start. Somebody put the parameters of this mission together, somebody with a higher grade of clearance than his own, somebody with more experience than he possesses. Presumably they had their reasons; his place is to accept that until such time as he can understand it-- which he should do as quickly as he possible, so that he can do as good a job (or better) when it is his turn. 

As Hux is relaxing into the environment (he'd really been expecting something a lot less pleasant), Kylo seems to be growing ever more tense, regarding the houses with something between suspicion and what looks like outright hatred.

"...Are you quite all right, Kylo?"

There is, so far as Hux can tell, nothing resembling a threat here-- but he knows he is just an ordinary mortal with none of Ren's sorcerous gifts, and it's possible that they're walking into a trap. 

Although not technically undercover, Snoke's instructions had been to keep a low profile, and thus Hux has refrained from wearing his uniform-- as did Ren (assuming he even had one). He did, however, add a small concealed sidearm underneath his shirt that morning, as he always does when he plans on leaving the apartment. Although this is an Order planet, it is still a _planet_ rather than a ship, which means he is surrounded by civilians rather than fellow soldiers every time he ventures outside. He's not afraid, exactly; merely wary, but at the sight of Ren's reaction, one hand moves instinctively closer to the weapon.

Ren still doesn't answer, damn him, and Hux has to prompt again: lower, more urgent this time.

"Ren. Do we have a problem or not?"

That seems to snap him out of it; he glances back a Hux, blinks, and the darkness in his expression dissipates.

"No. It's-- Everything's fine. I was just remembering something."

"Well, do try to look less threatened and threaten _ing_ when you're remembering," Hux huffs, dropping his hand. 

Kylo quirks a small grin at him, and Hux feels both irritated and foolish.

"Why? What did you think was happening-- here, in the middle of a street full of stupid little houses?"

"It could have been a trap of some kind, a test," Hux blusters. It is admittedly unlikely, but technically: he's right. They had been sent here, after all, so it's entirely within the realm of possibility that they would be intentionally ambushed as some kind of evaluation. It would hardly be life-threatening if they failed, but they could be hurt-- or worse, embarrassed.

Kylo closes his eyes at the gate to the path, standing perfectly still. It's quite obvious he's doing some... _Force-thing_ , and Hux makes the decision not to interfere unless he remains there for so long that people begin to stare. 

"We're fine," he says, after a moment, pushing the little gate open. "It's empty. Abandoned, almost. If we are to be ambushed, there's nobody lying in wait today."

"Convenient," Hux says curtly, because honestly... What else can he say? He's slightly jealous, to be honest; while he is sure there are more limits to all this Force business than its adherents would let on, it obviously has its uses. However, he doesn't doubt that it also has its downsides-- destroying a room in your sleep, for example, as he saw last night. 

He follows Kylo along the path, marvelling at how much _life_ there is on this single little rock: things scurry ahead and away from them in the long grass, and there are clumps of flowers among the weeds. It's sort of interesting, Hux thinks, in an abstract kind of way.

He's never been one for biology, really. Aside from anatomy (useful on every possible level, with applications ranging from medical to sexual to military), it's never really been his thing. Chemistry and Physics and especially Engineering were more his speed: they follow clearer rules and have fewer individual differences and aren't so... Messy. 

He can only imagine how _messy_ the damned Force is.

The doors are locked when they finally reach them, a modern ID pad having been attached to an older-style door. That's the way it is on a lot of these planets, so far as Hux has heard. Most of the worlds now operated by the Order had been somewhat backwards before their occupation (it was, after all, what had made them such tempting targets to the fleeing Imperials), and traces of that heritage remained and continued to pop up in the most unexpected places. 

He places his hand to the pad to verify his identity and it swings open immediately.

He's not entirely sure what to expect inside, but Ren seems happy enough to saunter in, so Hux follows after. 

What he finds is a large, cavernous space, predominantly decorated in the same antique style as the doors-- though like the doors, there are scattered hints of modern upgrades. Racks of new steel shelves hold a variety of weapons, and he can see tracks in the floor where holo-sim generators have been buried, though there are too few of them to provide an entirely immersive experience. Single opponents only, he guesses-- which would make sense given that it is Ren alone who is to train here. 

There are an alarming number of droid spheres lined up against the other wall, along with some mats and benches, a door that presumably leads to a refresher, and some standard gymnasium equipment that Hux remembers with ill humour from his Academy days. 

Although he attained grades that marked him as more than competent in his physical education classes, they had never been his favourite; it took real, sustained effort to manage those marks, and he knew in his heart that he would never excel in those classes, no matter what he did. Hardly ideal, but hardly worth getting worked up about, either; he had other skills which were in shorter supply, so ultimately it didn't matter (at least not much). 

Still, some degree of competency in self-defense was necessary, and so he had focused on marksmanship and quick attack techniques-- things he could use to disable an opponent from a distance at best, and at worst, at least quickly.

His gaze flits to Ren. Given his larger frame and heavy way of moving, Hux already has the strong impression that Kylo doesn't struggle in the same areas. 

"So," he says after a moment. "I'm assuming this meets your requirements?"

"It's adequate," Ren agrees, and Hux nods a little awkwardly before heading over to the benches and digging through his bag for his datapad. 

"In that case, I'll leave you to it."

Kylo blinks at him. "You're just going to sit there?"

"I did imagine you knew how to do this yourself," Hux says, frowning. "I wasn't-- There was nothing in my orders about... Assisting you."

In fact, he thought, if anything, it had been the opposite. _Continue your work on the Trooper training simulations,_ it had said. Nothing in that implied helping Ren do... Whatever it was he did.

"I do," Ren says, seeming to flounder a little. "But it's-- It's _weird_ ," he protests, and Hux rolls his eyes. "Voyeuristic," he adds, a malicious little flash of-- Of _something_ in his gaze as he tilts his chin up.

Again: interesting, but also another thing Hux doesn't have time to focus on right now. 

"Kylo, I have my own work to do. While I will confess to a mild interest in the workings of Force users, I have neither the time nor sufficient inclination to sit here and stare at you all day. If the Supreme Leader had intended your training to be kept secret from me, we would not have been dispatched to a single-room location-- and before you ask, I am most certainly not going to sequester myself in the refresher because you've had a sudden attack of shyness."

"Your work's a secret from me," Ren says hotly, and Hux wills himself to have the patience not to roll his eyes.

"It's not secret; it's merely that the details are classified. And only for the moment," he says, "Because I haven't been given any indication that it's something I should share with you-- although I did plan to inquire as to what degree of clearance you have so that I might be able to do so, should the need arise."

"Oh," Kylo says, looking surprised and faintly pleased. 

"It only makes sense. It's pointlessly wasteful to keep things from you if I don't need to," Hux says with a shrug, and Ren's face falls.

"Right." He turns and stalks over to the wall of weapons, inspecting them with his back to Hux. 

"Besides, your input might be useful on some things-- certainly your experiences are different to mine. Out of interest: have you ever been in a real-time battle? Non-sim, I mean," Hux asks, and he swears that even from here he can see the hairs rise on the back of Ren's neck.

"Why?"

One word, but it's enough to notice that his voice is lower, rougher, and entirely _different_ from how he's spoken before; in fact, there's very little in it that sounds even human. This time it's Hux's turn to feel his hair stand on end, some part of him --some primal scrap of his hindbrain-- screaming _danger_.

Ren's back is still turned, and part of Hux is very aware how close he is to all those weapons, but he absolutely refuses to capitulate to the fear that follows that thought. This is _Ren_ , for stars' sake-- Ren, who sweeps up his crumbs if guilted into it, who is irritated by inaccurate news reports, who still has stupid dreams. He's just-- Kylo. He's just a boy. 

And yet. 

And yet, Hux still feels that tell-tale warning in his mind and in his gut which signals that he should be _careful_.

"Because I haven't," he says simply. "And if you have, you have experiences that I don't which possibly I could draw on in drafting my simulations."

Ren looks over his shoulder at him then, watching him, and the closest experience to which Hux can compare it is the time he'd been on an Academy trip to one of the moons of Cantor. A survival skills expedition, in which said skills were very nearly not enough to ensure survival. The group had been set on by a pair of something very like Dire-cats, except larger, and only the fact that one of his squadmates had fondness for using improvised explosive charges to fish with prevented them all from being mauled to death.

Smaller weapons had absolutely no effect at all; Hux himself had shot the larger of the two beasts straight in the chest, right where its heart should have been-- which hadn't slowed it in the slightest. 

He hasn't thought about that night in literally years, but there is something in Ren's gaze that brings him right back to that moment, to looking that damned great cat in the eye: to shooting it, expecting it to fall, and seeing nothing but the promise of death instead.

"Kylo," he says, careful to moderate his voice between anything that could be taken as a threat and anything too soft or too pandering. "I asked because of what we talked about before. Using you so you can use me in turn. Mutual benefit. Nothing more."

Using that, and Kylo's reaction to it, is probably a bit unethical, but Hux has never been one to favour ethics over survival (a dead man does nobody any good thereafter), so he won't lose any sleep over it.

...Assuming he lives to sleep again, that is.

The moment stretches out between them: him looking at Ren and Ren looking back at him, something electric in the atmosphere which he puts down to this damnable _Force_ business. Slowly, something like sense begins to return to Kylo's features, and he inclines his head a little.

"...I understand," he says finally, and Hux lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. 

Ren turns his attention back to the wall and picks up a quarterstaff, and Hux runs a hand through his hair. Well. That had been... Interesting.

"I take it that's a yes, then," he ventures quietly, after another few moments have passed and some of the tension seems to have bled out of Ren's shoulders. Although he's armed now where he had been bare-handed before, there is reason in his eyes, and he is thus considerably less frightening.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ren replies tightly, and Hux holds up his hands.

"As you like, Kylo," he says, and picks up his datapad again. "If I'm given clearance for you and you wish to be useful, then you may... But I'm not going to pry information out of you that's not essential to the mission." He taps at the screen for a moment, considering whether or not to continue. 

Dangerous waters, but he does have a duty here, and so:

"...All the same, I would consider learning to respond to such questions in a less overtly aggressive manner. You're a soldier-- a warrior. People are going to express an interest in that, and you're going to have to learn to handle it more calmly, as most of the time, it won't mean anything threatening. Besides," he adds, "Such intensity of hostility is more useful when brought to bear as a proportional response-- or at least when approached by degrees."

No response, but then, Hux hadn't entirely expected one. There is silence for a little while, broken only by the faint swishing of Kylo's staff and the soft tapping of Hux's fingers on the pad as he does indeed put in a request for clarification on the matter of Ren's clearance, just as promised. He's just beginning to work on their duty rota, when, out of nowhere--

"I'm sorry."

"Hm?" He looks up, not quite sure what Kylo's referring to, only to find the boy leaning on his staff and watching him intently. It only occurs to him then that the swishing sounds had been stopped for some time beforehand.

Ah. Well. He does sometimes have a tendency to become absorbed in his tasks; a personal failing he hasn't quite overcome as yet, though he's confident he'll manage eventually.

"I'm afraid I didn't quite catch the beginning of that," he admits. "What is it that you're sorry for?"

"Menacing you," Kylo says curtly, and Hux has to suppress a small snort at that.

"Right, that." He sets the pad aside and gestures to the empty bench to his left; it comes as a surprise when Kylo actually comes to sit beside him.

"Thank you for the apology, Kylo-- it is appreciated, but if you really want to express contrition, you'll consider what I said. It's not helpful to you to fly off the handle whenever you're asked a simple question, even if it does remind you of... Painful experiences."

"I know." Kylo gathers his knees up to his chest, folding in on himself again, and Hux feels a weary tug of-- Of _something_ in response. It's not pity, exactly; he's a pitiless creature, born sharp, and having spent the last two decades honing his edges on the world and those around him while they did the same with him. Hux is keenly aware of and entirely comfortable with that fact; softness is not something he considers aspirational. 

There is something, though-- some warmth he feels when he looks at Kylo, some strange urge to settle and calm him. 

"You don't have to discuss the specifics-- I don't mean with me," he says hurriedly, before Ren can interject. "You can, if you wish-- or not, as I've said. But I mean with others. My advice to you would be to come up with a few variants of deflection based on how important the other person is. 

" _I'm sure you would never be so foolhardy as to attempt to seek information above your clearance level_ versus _Now, Minister, a man in my position must learn to keep his secrets_ \--" Though as he's saying it, he tries to picture Ren at a formal event, dressed up and being pressed for information, then deflecting with grace and charm.

It's a very lovely mental image-- but as likely, Hux thinks, as himself sprouting wings and flying home without the speeder.

"Well," he adds lamely. "You know. That, or some more personally-suitable variant of same."

"Or some more personally-suitable variant of same," Kylo repeats, in what is quite likely the worst possible mockery of Hux's accent ever. Still, he is smiling now, and no longer looks feral or even sad. He just looks like a boy again, so Hux shoves him unceremoniously and cheerfully off the bench.

"Get back to your work and leave me to mine," he says primly, plainly inviting Kylo to mimic him. He doesn't; Ren clearly can't bring himself to match that tone, which to Hux is just as satisfactory.

He pauses at the bottom of the benches, looking up at Hux through half lowered lashes.

"You're not afraid of me, are you."

Hux takes a moment to consider how to respond to that.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly. You have power which I don't, and I respect that. You also have a certain degree of instability, which frankly, I'm aiming to correct." Kylo snorts at that, but Hux presses on. "I suppose... No. I'm not afraid of you. It would be counter-productive and make this assignment somewhere between difficult and impossible."

Kylo says nothing for a long time, simply studying him-- and looking, as he so often seems to be, for deception. As before, he finds none.

"Everyone else is afraid of me," he says finally. 

"Is that something you'd like to change?" Hux asks, and immediately he can tell that no response will be forthcoming. The slightly goggle-eyed expression he gets from Ren reminds him horribly of how he used to tease the droids when he was a child by trying to trick them into solving paradoxes that overloaded their logic circuits. 

"Never mind," he says quickly. "You don't have to decide right now. Just-- Go and do your training. You're distracting me," he adds haughtily, and Ren gives him a flash of that wolfish smile again as he slopes back to the center of the room. "And, Kylo?" He looks back, and Hux gives him a smile that is every bit as wicked as Kylo's had been. "Sorry for leaving you out in the rain last night."

"Are you really?" Kylo asks, skepticism written all over his features.

Hux considers very briefly, then grins again. 

"Not even a little, no."

This time he is mindful to listen for the cessation of swishing sounds while he works-- and when it comes, he ducks, laughing, as the staff sails over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥ Chapter 3 is in progress, and I am hoping I will be able to post it a fortnight from today.
> 
> As always: let me know your thoughts, and if you want to reach me, the best place to do so is to hit me up on the Tumble Machine over on [@finalizer-psytech](http://finalizer-psytech.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again, hopefully squeaking in under the deadline by the skin of my teeth...! (Hux would be so disappointed.)
> 
> Thanks once more to [zombiebrainsoup](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiebrainsoup/pseuds/zombiebrainsoup) and [Catherine McCord](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CathrineMcCord/pseuds/CathrineMcCord) for pointing out my terrible errors, and to my Kylo buddy for constantly making me consider new angles of his character.

Kylo's training, at least for this day, seems to have consisted mainly of advanced versions of forms and exercises Hux had learned at the Academy. Hux himself had split his time between musing on their situation, working on his To Do list, and watching Kylo, finding it interesting to observe him.

By the time the light is dimming outside and he's beginning to consider calling it a day, he assesses his work, and finds he's made moderate progress on working through his list:

 **1a. Determine Ren's level of skill in household duties (various).**  
**Status:** Completed.  
**Outcome:** Assume zero skill; hope to be pleasantly surprised.

 **1b. Draft a rota for household duties with ref. to (a).**  
**Status:** Completed.  
**Outcome:** Discuss with Ren over dinner tonight.

 **2a. Determine Ren's level of skill with landspeeder piloting.**  
**Status:** In Progress.  
**Outcome:** Ensure reported skill matches reality tomorrow AM.

 **2b. Discuss Ren's needs and expectations regards training.**  
**Status:** In Progress.  
**Outcome:** Discuss in greater detail over dinner tonight.

 **2c. Discuss travel schedule with Ren with ref. to (a) and (b).**  
**Status:** Completed.  
**Outcome:** Refer to 2a and proceed as outlined.

 **3a. Determine Ren's current understanding of social niceties.**  
**Status:** Completed.  
**Outcome:** Assume zero skill; don't bother hoping to be pleasantly surprised.

 **3b. Draft preliminary curriculum for Ren with ref. to (a).**  
**Status:** In Progress.  
**Outcome:** Finish after dinner.

 **4\. Draft new personal schedule, allotting time for both assignments.**  
**Status:** In progress.  
**Outcome:** Complete after discussing 2b.

 **5\. Order new furnishings for Ren's room.**  
**Status:** Completed.  
**Outcome:** Await delivery schedule.

 **6\. Research the area surrounding the training facility for restaurants, etc.**  
**Status:** Completed.  
**Outcome:** Test new lunch venue tomorrow.

 **7a. Study Ren.**  
**Status:** In Progress.  
**Outcome:** Expect status to remain "In Progress" indefinitely.

 **7b. Befriend (?) Ren with ref. to (a); subdivide later after further analysis**  
**Status:** In Progress.  
**Outcome:** ?

 **8\. Check Ren's clearance level**  
**Status:** Completed.  
**Outcome:** Await response from superiors.

All of which could be condensed into a new list:

1\. Discuss chore rota with Ren over dinner tonight.  
2\. Discuss Ren's future expectations for training re: my participation & scheduled times.  
3\. Finish personal schedule with ref. to 2.  
4\. Finish curriculum for Ren's education.  
5\. Try not to die tomorrow morning while Ren drives us to the training center.  
6\. Visit new lunch venue tomorrow (try not to die, again).  
7a. Continue to attempt to make sense of Ren.  
7b. Accept that this will be an uphill battle.  
8\. Have inevitable argument with delivery crew about dates and times.  
9\. Await response regards Ren's clearance level. 

All right, perhaps this current list works out to in fact be slightly longer than the previous, but most items are new, some have been whittled down and refined, and others will take hardly any time at all.

Besides. If he fails at no.5, he won't have to worry about the others.

Hux sets his pad aside and stretches languidly, rolling his shoulders and trying to work out the stiffness of them from being hunched over for so long, his attention naturally falling to Ren in the absence of anything else. 

Kylo, it seems, has moved on from the staff (which he hadn't bothered to retrieve after throwing it at Hux in a failed effort to knock him off the bench) to working with his own lightsaber.

It's an odd thing, Hux thinks to himself, firstly in its general design, but even in the nature of the blade itself-- although he lacks personal experience, he's read descriptions, and none of them had ever included the words "unstable in appearance". It's hard to get a proper look at this distance, though, and last night, when he'd been closer, he'd been much too preoccupied with the imminent danger of losing a limb to pay as much attention to the blade as he'd have liked. 

It would be nice to take a closer look under better circumstances. 

He wonders if Kylo would allow that, and thinks he might ask later.

_Item Ten: Make request that might possibly see your arm lopped off._

No, he isn't quite that curious. He thinks it better to defer that one for a later time, perhaps after he makes some progress on 7a. 

Observation first, he thinks, and props his chin in his hand to watch as Kylo runs through the rest of his forms.

For all his initial complaint about being _watched_ , Kylo seems to have gotten over it, and Hux has the distinct impression he's playing to his audience, swinging in arcs wider and showier than are strictly necessary or helpful. 

He considers commenting, but then reconsiders; perhaps he should defer his commentary on Kylo's physical skills for the moment, too. 

After a little while, Ren seems satisfied with his efforts and flicks the blade off. It vanishes instantly, and Hux has to admit that there is a certain appeal to a weapon which is so deadly and yet can be shrunk to a tiny fraction of its size in a moment, becoming instantly unobtrusive and ultra-portable. It disappears into Ren's clothes, and he flashes a smile at Hux, not even pretending to be unaware of having been observed. 

"Finished with your secret work?"

Training seems to have a positive effect on Kylo: his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are alight with something that looks almost like happiness-- something else Hux files away for later consideration, though not before shooting Ren an exasperated look in response.

"Firstly, it's not _secret_ ; it's _classified_ , and secondly, that's not even what I was working on."

Kylo pads over to him and drops down on the bench beside him without needing an invitation this time, draping a towel over his face and sprawling out again. The boy seems to have absolutely no concern for where his legs are, and Hux deliberately prods one out of his space and back into Kylo's own. 

Kylo pulls the towel from over his face and scowls at him for it.

"What I _have_ been working on," he continues, without acknowledging Kylo's discontent, "Is our schedule and our curriculum and a few other things." (Another "we" there-- what the hell; it couldn't hurt. He'll need all the good will he can get for the next part, probably.) 

"We can talk about the curriculum part later, but I thought perhaps we could focus on the training schedule and expectations part, for now."

"Go on," Ren says, more gruffly, and Hux can see the pleasant mood starting to leech out of him. 

"Relax, Kylo; it's nothing odious." He reaches out to pat at his shoulder, hoping to keep the atmosphere light. 

It works-- perhaps rather too well. Kylo flinches, just fractionally, but as soon as Hux's fingers find his clothed shoulder, he brightens up again. He's suddenly like a little sun, almost, and it makes it hard to look at him.

Given what he'd said about _not being around people_ , Hux wonders how long it's been since he's had anyone to simply sit around and be normal with: someone to share friendship or even camaraderie with, someone to touch him casually or with positive intention. 

He thinks perhaps it might have been a very long time, considering that little flinch and how opposed Ren had been to Hux touching his bare skin, but possibly that part had been simply the lingering aftereffects of the nightmare...? Either way, he doubts this is the right time to test it. For now, he simply squeezes Kylo's shoulder and lets his hand drop, trying not to notice how the boy's expression drops at the same time. 

"I'd just like to know how much participation you'll need on my end for all of... This," he says, waving a hand towards the floor. "I do have my own _secret work_ to be getting on with," he adds for Kylo's benefit, and is rewarded with a faint twitch of his lips in response. "And I'll need to alter my personal schedule and delivery date if you're going to require me."

"Require you," Ren repeats, and there is something about his expression which Hux thinks might actually be... Flirtatious? An attempt at same, anyway, and he has the strong urge to bury his face in his hands. 

He really, really isn't equipped to deal with this. Any of this. 

Least of all the small voice in his head that says burying his face in Kylo's neck would be a far preferable alternative.

"Yes," he says, after a moment's pause. He can manage a good mask, when he needs to, and hopefully Kylo will see nothing over-interested or too responsive in his expression. "I'm willing to help you if you need it, of course, but I'm going to need to know so that I can plan things accordingly."

Ren eyes him speculatively, tilting his head that manner which Hux finds distinctly unsettling: it's alien, almost, and certainly predatory. Hux refuses to show any visible reaction to it.

"Planning is important to you."

Hux thinks he should receive some kind of award for not screaming in frustration. 

"Well, yes. I'm far from circumspect about that, Kylo."

It is, he thinks, probably one of the things people notice about him right off the bat: he is an _organised_ person, a man of rules and discipline and structure. Kylo should know this already. Kylo _does_ know this already. He has made clear both his consternation and particular appreciation of it. So why is he asking now?

Whatever his motivations, Ren hums at that.

"You don't have to participate," he says, finally. "You don't intrude, even when you're watching, so I don't mind you being here."

"How magnanimous of you," Hux drawls, and Kylo grins.

"But fighting droids and sims gets boring after a while. Besides," he says, and there is a strained note to his voice, like he's aiming for casual and not quite succeeding, "You could probably use some training yourself."

"Careful, Ren," Hux says softly, his ego faintly pricked by the accuracy of it.

"That wasn't an insult," Kylo replies quickly, his large eyes widening. "It's just-- You said I was a soldier and a warrior. You're not. You're a soldier and a strategist. A... Planner," he continues, looking slowly more sure as he speaks. "That's _your_ job. Designing training and evaluation scenarios for the Trooper Program."

It strikes Hux as very peculiar that Kylo had been able to parrot back to him, word for word, his own brief explanation of what he's been doing. Either his memory is very impressive, or he'd really been paying attention. In any case, it's a pleasant surprise.

"So." Kylo continues, shrugging. "I doubt you're spending a lot of time on physical training, since it's not your area. But..." He smiles, then, that wolfishness creeping back into his expression. "Isn't it better to be prepared for... Unforeseen circumstances?"

So. Both memory and attention, then.

Hux doesn't know whether he should be delighted that Kylo apparently takes his words enough to heart to remember them, or be irritated that the little shit then uses them against him.

...However. If he's to be entirely honest with himself? He's really just sort of proud of it.

"I can hardly fault your logic," Hux agrees, giving him a look that makes it clear that he knows this is, in fact, his own logic. 

"You should take advantage of the opportunity while you have it," Kylo says confidently. "That would be fair, wouldn't it? If I'm using you, you should get to... _Use me, too,_ " he adds, and his confidence drops as he says those words, segueing into something less certain and more... Excited.

"I thought we agreed that I was already getting something out of this...?" Hux reminds him, and he's pretty sure Kylo's pupils dilate at that. "I mean. You did refer to yourself as 'my big shot at making a good impression on the Supreme Leader', didn't you?" 

Kylo leans back a little, but his eyes are still dark and he drags his teeth over his lower lip. 

"I did," he agrees slowly. "But you could have more."

Hux pauses for a minute to let that sink in, to contemplate if he is, in fact, being offered _more_ in the way he suspects he might be, and what he should do about it if he is.

Nothing.

He should do absolutely nothing.

...At least, not until he's given the matter some considered, clear-headed thought. 

"My participation would be a little different from my simply watching," he says carefully. "I had some notes I elected not to share since that wasn't really the point, but if I'm to engage..."

"That's all right," Kylo says quickly. "You're... Exacting. You may not practice much, but you know all the forms, don't you?"

Hux quirks a small smile at that. He's irritated with himself for it, but Kylo's interest and his odd combination of observation skills and stating the blindingly obvious is... Endearing. 

"Maybe," he says, and rises. "Come on; we should get home. I want to finish these up by morning and I'd like to get back on a proper schedule. Speaking of-- I thought that if you really _are_ up by dawn, we could perhaps leave early in the mornings to avoid the traffic?"

Kylo gets to his feet, too, wrapping the towel around his shoulders.

"That's fine." He shrugs. "I prefer to pilot when there are fewer speeders on the road anyway," he adds as he heads down the steps, and Hux suppresses a faint groan. 

Of course he does.

They're definitely going to die.

Kylo seems to catch something in that and glances back over his shoulder, amusement clear on his face. 

"Relax, _Bren_ ; it's nothing odious," he says, his smirk broadening into a grin. "I'm good. Trust me."

"Trust has to be _earned_ ," Hux says, quickly catching up to him and jabbing him lightly in the hip with a finger. "Get us here tomorrow in one piece and perhaps in future I won't have concerns."

"That's not trust--!" Kylo protests, looking faintly put out.

"I think you're mistaking trust for faith," Hux says, amused. "Which is, I'm sorry to say, again something that has to be earned-- and which is in even shorter supply, too." Kylo continues to pout as he packs up his things. Hux retrieves the staff from earlier and returns it to the wall, frowning a little when he notices that Kylo seems content with leaving the other items he'd used strewn about the training space. 

"Aren't you going to pick those up?" he asks.

Kylo, who seems to have lapsed back into one of his sourer moods, purses his lips.

"Why?"

"Because... Because they're on the floor," Hux says, aware that he is pulling a face and currently entirely unable to do anything about it.

"That's not a reason," Kylo grinds out. Hux shuts his eyes and draws in a breath through his nose, deep and steadying. He counts up in primes-- a trick his mother had taught him as a tiny child, and thinks of calming things: the roiling ocean, the vast endlessness of space, the perfect order of a dozen battalions of troopers standing in formation. 

...Better.

"It's a perfectly valid reason, Kylo. You should leave a place or thing in the same state as you found it."

"I feel like I'm hearing you repeat something you learned by rote," Kylo says, obviously needling, and Hux is irritated by how accurate and therefore effective it is.

"Which makes it no less valid," he says, trying to keep both ice and fury out of his tone. "You'll end up losing or breaking things this way. Or someone else will have to clean up your mess."

Kylo seems to consider this for a while, not moving, only watching Hux through the sweat-dampened forest of his ridiculous fringe.

"Fine," he says, and begins returning the weapons and targets he'd been using to their original places. 

After a moment, Hux pitches in; there isn't much mess, really, and he'd like to head out sooner rather than later. It's been a long day already, and he has a lot left to do.

"If it's _my_ mess, then why are _you_ helping?" Kylo asks, though he sounds more curious now than annoyed, which Hux counts as a positive.

"Because we both have to work here tomorrow, for one thing, and for another... I did tell you: I'm not here to lord anything over you. Cooperation, remember?"

Kylo looks torn by this answer, but Hux doesn't press for clarification; he's ridden this emotional rollercoaster quite enough for one day without bringing additional trips upon himself just yet. 

It doesn't take long to get things straightened out again, by which point Kylo still looks contemplative, and with no further information forthcoming, Hux thinks it's time to change the subject.

"So if we leave around 0600, what time would you usually finish up?"

"1800?" Kylo says, and Hux can see the wheels turning-- half an hour each way for travel and around an hour for lunch should leave them with a ten-hour day, which is probably sufficient, just about. 

"Fair enough," he says agreeably. He pulls the door securely shut behind him as they leave, stepping into the balmy dusk outside. Well, he thinks, maybe this isn't so bad, either. The sky is streaked with peach and pink, and it occurs to him for the first time how much more _colour_ there is here on the surface. 

It's actually pleasant to be out here like this. Perhaps he should take advantage of that at some point, and bring Ren somewhere during their off-hours where he can practise being around people and acting a bit normal.

Unless he has his own ideas. Hux doubts it, but feels he should at least ask.

"What are you planning for your off-hours?"

Immediately, the shifty expression makes a reappearance on Kylo's face, and Hux can feel his own consternation returning with it. Presumably he notices Hux reacting, because Ren then heads away down the path towards the gate, making sure his face is hidden from Hux's gaze when he speaks.

"Usually I read."

He could not have sounded less convincing if he'd said that he usually dressed up in a Hutt costume and inventoried his socks for fun. 

...Hux isn't having it this time.

Lying is bad, but _bad_ lying is flatly intolerable. Hux wonders if the boy is an inherently terrible liar, or if he simply lacks experience. (The latter he could understand; Hux would greatly prefer not to find himself in the position of needing to lie to the Supreme Leader, and it didn't seem as though Kylo had much other company for the last few years.)

Obviously, deception is something he's going to have to make a lesson of, but for the moment, he'll just capitalise on Kylo's lack of skill in the area. He speeds up a little to overtake him, cutting in front of Kylo and bringing him to a halt, looking directly up at him. Kylo's stride falters before he stops and he teeters, almost falling forward and into Hux. 

Hux _could_ use a hand to steady him, but he elects not to; given the moment that's in it, he thinks it might be a tad too intimate.

Instead, he settles for keeping his gaze steady and his tone low as he speaks.

"Kylo, a moment ago you were asking for me to trust you. Now you're lying to me --very poorly, I might add-- which unsurprisingly doesn't incline me towards believing a word you say."

Ren opens his mouth to protest, but Hux simply holds up a hand and continues on. 

"You yourself said you don't like when people lie to you, so you'll understand if they share the sentiment."

Kylo does not try to protest again this time, only drops his gaze, which Hux takes as a win. He pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice a little softer now.

"Kylo. I don't care if you usually do something else in your free time, all right? If it's something you want to do here--"

"That's not it," Kylo says, his voice low, and then offers nothing further.

Hux can be patient, when he needs to be, and remains where he is, intending to stay there until Kylo gives him something at least passably resembling an explanation. 

"It's-- I don't read, usually," he grinds out. 

It's another of those moments where Hux thinks he probably shouldn't automatically respond with something sarcastic in reply, and bites it back. 

"Well, I'm not going to force it on you now. As I said, if you'd prefer something else..."

"You don't--" Kylo actually growls with frustration and kicks savagely at a small rock on the path near them. Hux's eyes widen and he steps back a bit. 

He'd wanted a reaction, and it seems now he is getting one. 

It's not as satisfying as he expected. 

He'd like to think it's because he's already learned that any iciness or detachment on Ren's part is a simply a thin, brittle shell covering a much deeper well of emotion, but he suspects the reality is something different. In truth, Hux is developing a sort of fondness for him, and the thought of Kylo's unhappy frustration sits uneasily with him-- especially Kylo's _unnecessary_ unhappy frustration. 

"Kylo--"

"You don't understand!" he shouts, and Hux won't stand for that. He covers the distance he'd retreated across a moment before and gets right into Kylo's space. It's more than intimate: it's intimidating, and his glare is colder than the depths of space. No amount of fondness could cause him to allow Kylo to blow their cover and compromise their mission, especially not over something so small and petty. 

"Ren, you need to control yourself. Now. We are in _public_ , and we are under orders to keep a low profile. I don't know what your issue is, and I don't especially care at the moment. If you wish to discuss it further, then we can do so in the privacy of our vehicle-- but either way you are going to march yourself to it and get inside without further incident, is that clear?"

It is potentially unwise to get so close to someone who is clearly unstable and carrying a very deadly weapon, but the only other alternatives are to either allow Ren to continue to behave like a tantruming child until they are noticed, or to leave and hope Ren follows, neither of which seem particularly likely to work. This, though...

...It is a risk-- but a calculated one, and it pays off when Ren seems to deflate and stomps off towards the speeder with his shoulders tight and his head lowered.

Well. At least he isn't making a scene any more, Hux thinks, and follows after. 

Irritating as this spat had been, he there are two keys things he can take from it: 

Firstly, he has largely got a handle on his desire to needle Ren, mostly because there's no point. Although Hux has not yet discovered what the specific triggers are, Ren is obviously capable of explosive rage with very little provocation; his composure is little more than a fragile veneer, so there's no particular prize in being able to shatter it. 

Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, Hux is beginning to get a handle on how to handle Ren. He thinks there are two key elements: respect, and direct orders. Both of those come quite naturally to Hux, so he's hoping they can continue in this manner and hopefully avoid any future outbursts... Or at least mitigate them when they do come.

He still can't relate to Ren, not really, but he can at least apply the same behavioural modification techniques which were used, to great effect, on Hux himself as a child. Kylo is no child, but clearly he has not learned the proper control that an adult should possess.

Hux means to teach it to him. 

If that means he needs to go right back to basics, then so be it.

He pops the canopy and they slip inside, and he does not look at or speak to Kylo as he engages the engine and moves out into the street. There is little traffic this late in the day, and after a few moments, he chances a look sideways. Unlike his previous sprawl, Ren is tight with tension: muscles coiled, jaw set, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. 

He looks as though he is spoiling for a fight, but Hux does not intend to give him one. 

"Would you like to explain to me what happened back there?"

It's an open-ended question, designed to allow Kylo to feel like he has some measure of control, to allow him to feel respected and considered, his wants taken into account. 

They are, and he is-- sort of. Hux also knows that there is absolutely no way Kylo will be able to refrain from continuing to make attempts at explaining whatever it was he'd been trying to stammer out before.

To his surprise, however, Ren seems to have collected himself in the interim, and when he speaks, his voice is level and calm, with none of the raw anger and frustration it had held before. 

"It's complicated," he says simply. Out of the corner of his eye, Hux watches as lets out a breath, then relaxes his head back against the seat. "There's a lot you don't understand."

"I'm willing to listen if you're willing to explain," Hux says, without looking directly at him. "You don't have to, but it would help our efforts here if you did."

"My training was--" Kylo starts, then frowns and seems to change his mind. "My training _is_ absolute. All-consuming. I don't understand why I've been sent here to you to learn these things-- to be in this environment when it goes against so much of what I've learned before."

Hux gives a noncommittal hum and keeps his eyes on the road. 

"Not to criticise, Kylo, but perhaps absolute and all-consuming is the problem-- which isn't your fault, exactly. You've had no release. No outlet. It's given you a hair-trigger temper and a lack of experience with things you should be able to manage easily."

Ren flushes, looking angry, but doesn't dispute the claim.

"Don't fret," Hux says, in a tone as approximating soothing as he can manage. "It's fixable, as I said before."

Kylo gives a soft laugh at that, so bitter that Hux turns to look at him. 

"We'll see."

Hux frowns; he doesn't like the dead, defeatist tone in Kylo's voice, both because it bodes ill for their assignment... But also because it's also sort of depressing, generally. 

"Kylo. Although I am following orders, I have every confidence in the probability of success here."

"Every confidence in yourself," Kylo says, tone still bitter, and Hux purses his lips.

"Yes. In myself. Because I have twenty-two years of experience in dealing with me, and fewer than twenty-two _hours_ of dealing with you. In that time, however, I believe I've learned quite a bit, and nothing I've seen has indicated that you're beyond help or beyond reason. Not most of the time, anyway," he adds wryly. Kylo's mouth twitches in what looks like defiance of the rest of him.

"You don't know," he says, after a long pause. "There's a lot you don't know."

"Of course there is," Hux says, and it takes real effort to keep the sharpness out of his voice. Kylo stating the blindingly obvious is only endearing in moments when Hux's nerves aren't already rubbed raw. "And I will continue to not-know it until such time as you inform me of it, because there is nobody else in a position to do that at this time."

Kylo seems almost surprised by this perspective. He blinks a few times, and then tilts his gaze out the window, watching the suburbs roll by as they move deeper into the city and back towards their quarters.

"Why do you think we were housed so far away from the training center?"

Although Hux had pondered that very thing earlier in the day, Kylo asking him now is... Unexpected.

"Well, I would imagine it was so that we wouldn't become too familiar to the locals," Hux says, sharing at least part of the conclusion he'd come to earlier. "Also, if there's any kind of incident at the center that exposes us, we have a place to which we can repair that's out of the immediate vicinity."

"Do you think that's all?" Kylo presses, and Hux sighs.

"...No, I don't. I think certain efforts have also been made to prevent us from getting too comfortable here, from feeling too much at home. Our apartment is just a fraction too small for two people. By necessity we have to spend a lot of time travelling from Point A to Point B, which both prevents us from getting too attached to either location and also serves to trap us in a confined space together where I may impart further lessons to you that you have no means to escape."

It's more, perhaps, than he should be admitting, but Hux has always been prized for his analytical skills. If this is some kind of trap and the Supreme Leader doesn't want him assessing his motivations, then he shouldn't be training Hux to do exactly that all of the time. He does not question or complain, but he analyses constantly.

It is what he has been designed to do, after all. 

He's very aware of Kylo watching him, though Hux can spare very little attention from the traffic stream.

"Do you disagree?" he prompts eventually.

"No, I don't," Kylo says flatly. "I'm just surprised you'd admit all that to me."

"I'm trying to build trust," Hux admits, shooting him an almost-smile. "In the same spirit: how much of that had you worked out for yourself?"

"About half of it," Kylo says, after a brief pause. "The parts about being trapped in the speeder and about being able to get away from the training facility if we need to."

"Do you _feel_ trapped?" Hux asks, and he feels the most bizarre pinch of... Of _hurt_ at the thought.

Kylo takes a long time to answer.

"Yes and no."

"Thank you for clearing that up so well," Hux says dryly.

"I get frustrated," Kylo admits, after another long pause. "And when I do, I'd like to be able to act on it. I can't do that in here. It's annoying."

"I'm gratified to know you at least recognise that fact," Hux says, and while he is somewhat teasing, he really is relieved that he doesn't have to worry about Kylo trying to kick the console while he's driving.

"But I don't feel... Trapped by being with you," Kylo continues, his voice a little softer now. "I don't mind spending time with you. You're--" Hux has the horrible, awful feeling that he's about to say the words _nice to me_ , but he seems to reconsider and instead says: "You're easier to be around than most people. You make sense. And you say what you mean."

Hux considers this for a little while. 

Kylo sounds very... Sure. Too sure, in fact-- entirely too certain. There is no doubt in his voice, and between that and his bizarre powers, that leads Hux to one inescapable, very troubling question.

"...Kylo, have you been reading my mind?"

He tries, very hard --very, very hard-- not to allow any of the slowly mounting fury he is feeling to seep into his voice when he speaks.

There is a pause.

"Not exactly."

"Not. Exactly." Hux repeats the words, and okay, maybe a little rage creeps in this time.

"I told you I could tell when people are lying! What did you think I meant?!" Ren is pouting again; Hux can tell from his tone of voice.

He would dearly like to pull the vehicle over and throttle him.

He doesn't, though he knows his composure is somewhat rattled all the same.

"Kylo. I would suggest that you begin explaining what you did mean, and very quickly."

Hux's tone leaves no room for argument, and blessedly, there is none.

"It's not mind-reading. Although I can do that, with effort, when I choose to. But it's-- Apparent. To the subject. Unless I interfere with their memory afterwards, which I haven't with you." He's flustered, clearly, but does not sound quite as put off by the idea of doing so as Hux would like. They have more pressing concerns for the moment, though, so he doesn't interrupt. "This is something different. There's dissonance when someone lies. A disconnect between their words and their energy. I don't feel that with you."

"And that's all?" Hux says, trying for neutral and very nearly managing it.

"That's all," Kylo says, and this time, he at least sounds earnest. Hux thinks that's probably as good as he's going to get from him.

Well.

At least they're on a level playing field. 

After all, Hux can tell when Kylo is lying, too. 

He can live with that. He will have to live with that.

He purses his lips. "Well then. To get back to topic--"

"You're angry," Kylo interjects, and the idea of pulling over and choking him becomes just that little bit more appealing. 

"Yes, Kylo," Hux says, aware he's sounding quite strained now, and not he doesn't care at all. "I am quite angry. I am annoyed that you didn't disclose this ability... Although probably I have no real right to be on account of the fact that had I been in your position, I might have done the same." 

It irritates him to admit that, but in the spirit of fairness (and also because it's probably obvious), he doesn't have much choice. 

Kylo seems to appreciate it-- there is a brief flash of a smile: very real, but also a little sad.

Hux turns his attention to the traffic in order to have something else to look at.

"So," he tries again, "To return to topic--"

"You keep admitting things," Kylo interjects again, and honestly, Hux thinks it's entirely understandable that he should lose his temper a little.

"If I admit to strongly considering _immediate material harm to your person_ , will you stop your damned interruptions--?!"

"Probably not," Kylo muses. "You're driving. You don't seem the type to take your hands off the controls long enough to inflict an actual injury."

Hux is beginning to suspect that causing said harm to himself would be more effective. 

"Kylo--"

"I like it," Kylo says simply, tilting his head to gaze out the window again. "I mean, I appreciate it. So I'm sorry if you feel I've... Pried."

Hux sighs. He is beginning to think he's going to need to take up smoking or drinking or some other ridiculous vice just to get through this assignment. 

Kylo gives him emotional whiplash, and it's not like anything he's used to.

He's not used to any part of this, especially not the burgeoning softness he feels when Kylo says things like 'I'm sorry' and 'I appreciate it' and when he does things like immediately obey Hux's commands and flirts and his eyes light up with wanton excitement.

Back to what he _is_ used to, then: controlling the conversation.

"Thank you for your apology, Kylo." The sprawl returns when Hux says this; he can see it out of the corner of his eye. In this instance, he considers it a good thing. "...And in the spirit of that apology, would you be so kind as to allow the conversation to progress without attempts to divert me?"

Kylo squirms then, Hux notes with some satisfaction. He is nothing if not dogged, and he will not allow the boy to control the conversation and divert him from things which need to be discussed. 

"If I said I didn't want to talk about it?"

"Then we don't have to talk about it," Hux says smoothly, decisively. "I told you, Kylo: I'm not going to twist your arm. But the more you tell me, the better and easier this will be for the both of us." 

He shrugs, the neighbourhood around them giving way to the one with which he is more familiar. 

"Either way, however, I will not have you causing diversions and distractions. If you don't want to discuss something, then say so. No trying to change the subject or make me angry; simply tell me that you consider the matter private-- and unless it's essential to our work here, I'll respect that."

And he will. But he's pretty sure that phrasing it like that will--

"I don't mind telling you," Kylo says, and Hux thrills a little having predicted him correctly. "I just don't know where to start when you know so little."

Well. That brings his ego back down, anyway.

"Thank you, Kylo," he says, tone as flat as the road beneath them. He finds a parking space near their building and starts to maneuver the speeder into it. "That's not insulting at all. I'll have you know I'm as familiar with the workings of the Force as I need to be in order to get the job done."

Ren makes a scoffing sound. They are, technically, no longer in motion, so really --if he wanted to-- Hux could make good on his threat from earlier.

He considers it, briefly (it's a nice mental image, on more levels than one), and then elects to step out of the speeder instead.

He waits for Ren to follow before closing up again and heading for their building.

"I could teach you," Ren says, once they reach the door. His voice is very soft and very close, directly behind Hux's ear. Hux mentally raises the issue of _Personal Space_ \--a concept which Kylo clearly needs to learn rather than teach-- up his list of lesson priorities, and suppresses a shiver. 

"With all due respect, Kylo, I think that might be passing the boundaries of what's beneficial to our situation. While I might be amenable to the notion of training with you in a sparring capacity--"

"You are?"

Hux moves his lesson about interjections (currently titled Stop Fucking Interrupting People; It's Terribly Annoying) up the list, too, and bites his tongue on it for now as he lets them inside the apartment.

"I am. But I doubt 'Force Wizard' is something that's necessary or practical for me to attempt to add to my list of skills."

"I don't mean _that_ ," Kylo says, abandoning his bag by the sofa and flopping onto it. "You're not Force-sensitive. Not any more than the ordinary person, anyway," he adds, and Hux bristles a little, mentally. Being 'ordinary' is not something he aspires to, but in this instance it seems correct, and annoyingly unchangeably so. At least Ren doesn't seem to notice his reaction, for which Hux is grateful. Instead, he continues: "I mean teach you to have an understanding of it, not to use it."

Hux moves to the kitchen to make some caf. 

He's mulling over lacing it with something stronger. 

...No. (Not before dinner, anyway.)

"Are you at liberty to disclose that information?"

Kylo gnaws on his lip a little, looking down.

"I wasn't told not to. It's not..." He shifts again, and Hux gives him some space, turning his back and seeing to his drink. "I'm not the one who withholds information."

Clearly it's true: there is so much in that one small, seemingly innocuous statement that Hux thinks it important to give it the time and consideration it deserves as he waits for his caf to brew. 

Ren is not, he can tell, referring to Hux; there is bitterness in his tone, and sadness, but nothing like the accusation he'd spit when complaining about the secrecy of Hux's work. No, this is something different. Old pain, perhaps, but also something newer, and deeper: less _scar tissue_ and more _current infection_.

In other words: something Hux is going to have to deal with.

"Would you like to elaborate on that?"

Another open-ended question, designed --along with the space between them, and the silence-- to allow Kylo to come to the conclusion that it's better to tell Hux, that he _can_ tell Hux, that he _should_ tell Hux.

It works, of course, just as before.

"Do you have anything to drink without caffeine in it?" Kylo asks, slow and hesitant, his expression open and soft. He's not stalling right now; Hux can tell it's a genuine request. 

"Possibly," he says, eyeing the cabinets. There's chamomi, which he'd bought when he arrived on the planet and found himself unable to sleep properly. "Let me check."

He elects to give Kylo a little more space while he prepares the tea, saying nothing more and not even looking in his direction until both beverages are brewed and he brings them to the sofa, pressing himself into the corner furthest from Ren and holding out his mug.

Kylo takes it from him, careful not to let his fingers brush Hux's (not a temporary thing, then, his reluctance for skin-to-skin contact), and blows across the top for a while, staring into space over the rim.

"You knew I was lying this morning, didn't you." He says eventually, and it's clear it's not a question. "About reading."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you bring it up then?"

Hux sighs. "Mostly because I didn't want to get into some kind of argument when we were about to leave. I assumed that it was either a minor lie with no implications, or that you'd tell me in your own time-- _not_ that it would crop up again because it's obviously part of a bigger issue."

Kylo says nothing for a while, picking at his mug with his nails. It's annoying, and Hux is just about to tell him to stop, when--

"While I was training, the Supreme Leader restricted all my access to information," he says quietly, gaze still on his drink and on his hands. "I did read, but it was from prescribed texts. _Old_ texts-- Printed, many of them. I had no access to the media or news or the holonet."

Hux's immediate thought is to point out that perhaps Kylo should have pointed that out _before Hux ordered him a damn datapad_ , but he refrains. He is also, to a lesser degree, troubled by what seems to be the wisdom (or lack thereof) behind that decision-- restricting information is not something you should do with your senior people, your important people. It's futile: they will eventually encounter it on their own, so it's far better to present that information to them yourself, in an environment where you can control it, and that you make sure it comes with an explanation of the broader context. 

This morning had been a perfect example of what happens when you _don't_ do that. 

It's all very well to surround your footsoldiers with propaganda and deprive them of anything in-depth; there are simply far too many of them to engage with on a one-to-one basis, so on a practical level, it's almost impossible to ensure you've given them a full and proper understanding of what it is they're likely to encounter, but with your officers-- with your _leaders_? Deprivation is never the answer; the answer is early communication, and context provision. 

..Which implies that either Snoke doesn't consider Kylo a leader, or he doesn't understand that very simple and basic fact.

Neither of those concepts sit very well with Hux, so he decides not to dwell on them for the moment, and seek more information instead.

"Was this discussed with you at any point?" 

"A little," Kylo says, his gaze finally flickering to Hux. "He said that it was more important for me to understand the old ways. The design of the Empire. The political intrigues that destabilised and corrupted the Old Republic. What came before it-- original Knights, the Sith, the Force. Sometimes technical things, like saber designs and ship configurations-- I've always had a good understanding of those things, but..." He shrugs. "Most of it was about the Force, or was historical in some way. He said anything more recent was a temporary anomaly-- an inconsequential blip in the history of the galaxy, and that the specifics would be attended to by those less significant."

Hux mulls that over, sipping at his caf. Well, at least the context was provided, but without the information alongside it at the proper time, it would never be as effective as doing it Hux's way. (The right way, some traitorous part of his mind supplies, one which is immediately silenced.)

"Were you expressly forbidden from reading such material?"

"No," Kylo says hesitantly. "But... I only inquired. I never demanded or made efforts to circumvent that suggestion."

He says _suggestion_ the way Hux would say _order_ , and while it seems unconscious, Hux wonders if it is on some level deliberate. 

"Were you given instruction to continue with the same materials here?" Hux asks because he certainly wasn't given instruction to make efforts to keep Kylo away from the news and the holonet. 

"No. And..." He trails off, frowning. "I wasn't permitted to bring my books with me, either."

"Well, then," Hux says smoothly, and reaches over to pat his shoulder. There is no flinch this time, but no relief comes from it, either. "I shouldn't think we're in any trouble. If the same restrictions were to continue, it would have been made explicit to one or both of us, and you would have been given reading material for your time here. I'm sure it's fine. Perhaps Leader Snoke recognises it as a necessary part of the type of training I'm going to be doing with you."

"You were worried?" Kylo's eyes narrow, growing sharp and clever, and really: Hux is quite sure he will make a fine weapon and predator one day, but he will have to conquer himself first.

"Considering that you were on my pad this morning and I ordered another one for you earlier? Yes, Kylo: _I was worried_."

Ren, at least, has the grace to look abashed at this. 

"I wasn't trying to get you into trouble," he says, retreating a little into himself again. "Your pad was just there when I woke up. And I didn't think you'd be up for a while."

"You mean you didn't think I'd catch you?" Hux says, some amusement bleeding into his tone. 

Kylo seems to realise he might have made a mistake.

"Um," he says. Hux snorts and sets his mug on a coaster on the table.

"Thank you for your honesty, Kylo," he says, more seriously, and then rises. "I'm going to make a start on dinner, but I believe we are in the clear with this, for now. As I haven't been given any indication that I should attempt to prevent you from informing yourself, I won't do so. I would, however, caution you against overwhelming yourself with it. Leader Snoke is right: a lot of it _is_ insignificant. The rest..." He shrugs, rolls his shoulders, and heads towards the kitchen. "If there's anything that bothers you or anything you're especially curious about, you can raise it with me."

Kylo gives him another one of those smiles then, the ones that seem almost surprised out of him, and Hux has to look away. It is, he thinks, rather depressing that Snoke has allowed Ren to reach this stage, where he is so lonely and disconnected that anything seems like a kindness to him.

This isn't kindness. Hux isn't kind. He is doing it because it is practical, because encouraging Kylo to be happier and to like him will further his ultimate goal of getting him to behave somewhat normally and thus successfully completing his assignment. 

The fact that he feels a slight twinge in his stomach when Kylo smiles at him or that he is vaguely unsettled by the desperate loneliness rolling off the boy in waves is inconsequential. 

When he reaches the kitchen, he surveys the contents of the chiller while deciding what to make for dinner, which reminds him--

"We're going to need to discuss the chore rota."

"Hm?" When he looks around again, Kylo seems to have taken his words to heart and has, in another horrifying show of his utter lack of understanding of boundaries, actually _gone into Hux's bag, taken out his datapad_ and buried his nose in it. 

Clearly the lesson about Personal Space is the one that definitely needs to be prioritised, but since he's started talking about the rota now, he might as well continue. 

"The chore rota," he repeats. "Actually, considering that you've taken it upon yourself to relieve my bag of my pad," --personal possessives both times; this is not the time for collective pronouns-- "You can read it for yourself. It'll be under today's datafile, and you should have access to it."

Kylo sits up a little and taps his way through the files as Hux had suggested. While he's reading, Hux sets about making something to eat: nothing fancy, simply rice and vegetables and the poultry from the chiller that he needed to use.

After a moment, Kylo gives an indignant splutter and rises from the couch.

"You can't be serious."

"About what?" Hux asks, looking up from his preparations to find Kylo staring him down from the other side of the counter, pad in hand, looking disgruntled and horrified. 

"You really expect me to do chores."

"Yes, Kylo," Hux says, indicating the food he's currently preparing. "I expect you to pitch in and help in the same way that I do."

"But you like cooking--!" Kylo protests, folding his arms across his chest like a child.

"I do not _like cooking_ ," Hux corrects, tilting his chin up. "It's largely tedious. What I like is _being competent at cooking_ , and the benefits that brings." 

Kylo mulls this over for a bit, and seems to be able to find no argument against it. However--

"But look," he says, holding out the pad. "Make my bed? I'm not five. And I don't even have a bed right now."

"Obviously I don't expect you to make a bed you don't have, Kylo. However, I do expect you to help me clean up the mess from last night."

As soon as he's said it, he realises it sounds perhaps dirtier than he'd intended. To his surprise, Kylo seems to realise this as well, and smirks.

"I'm sure that was hardly my fault, Bren," he says cheekily, and Hux rolls his eyes.

"You know very well to what I'm referring, and while it may not have been a conscious action on your part, it was certainly nothing at all to do with me, so you should count yourself lucky I'm not expecting you to do it entirely by yourself. As for making the bed you don't have-- I did say I was going to teach you how to properly fold a blanket."

Kylo mumbles something under his breath, but then slumps down on the stool across the counter from Hux and rests his chin on his fist, pad abandoned on the surface in front of him.

"And the rest of this? Laundry, making breakfast, _cleaning_?"

"As I said, Kylo, I am not here to be your nursemaid, and we haven't been assigned a housekeeping droid for this mission. Do you consider it fair that I should do all the work?"

Again, a visible internal struggle: Kylo's common sense warring with his desire to be contrary.

"No," he sighs, eventually, shoulders drooping a little. "I don't."

"Well then," Hux says simply. "You'll handle breakfast and driving to the training facility, as well as keeping your own room in a habitable condition. I'll take the evening meal and the evening drive and my room. I clean once a week, and so do you. We each do our own laundry. A balanced arrangement for both parties."

"...Um," Kylo says after a moment, and Hux briefly wishes he believed in a higher power that might be able to grant him patience. In the absence of same, he figures he will have to grant it to himself.

"Yes, Kylo?"

"It's just," Kylo says, haltingly, as if this were some sort of shameful admission, "I don't know how."

"...You don't know how to do what? Kylo, I'm not going to ride you over the coals for not knowing how to do something; I already told you that you should tell me if something is new to you."

"All of it is new to me!" Kylo says explosively, looking mutinous. "I don't know how to do any of it! I don't clean! I had droids for that! And I've never-- I've never done laundry before," he says, suddenly incredibly interested in the surface of the countertop.

It takes Hux a very great amount of that self-granted patience not to sigh loudly.

"Then I will teach you. Starting after dinner, with your room."

Kylo looks up then, brow furrowed and almost suspicious.

"You will?"

This time, Hux does sigh. He can't help it. He then pauses his efforts with the food and sits down across from Kylo for a minute so they're at eye level.

"Of course I will, Kylo. I have no intention of tossing you in at the deep end so that I can watch you fail; it holds neither benefit nor appeal for me. Instruction before evaluation."

"What about _assessing_?" Kylo asks, seeming to have perked up a little-- the little smile is back, hovering at the corners of his mouth. 

"Initial assessments are not the same thing. That's only to establish a baseline for me, not to test you."

Hux rises again and gets back to what he was doing.

"So. I have your agreement?"

"I suppose," Kylo says, but he looks a lot less unhappy about it than he did before. Appreciative, almost-- though not quite. 

"Good," Hux says, and begins to sear the meat. Kylo, to his immense surprise and no small amount of pleasure, is watching carefully. Although he doesn't add any visual commentary, he does angle his body and slow his movements a little, giving Kylo ample time and view to see everything he's doing.

By the time he finishes, Kylo has tipped his cheek into his hand, eyes half-closed, studying Hux more than his actions.

"Lessons begin in earnest tomorrow," Hux says, setting the plate in front of him. "But until then, you might consider the concept of _staring_ again." 

"You wanted me to watch you," Kylo protests, more insightful than perhaps Hux would consider ideal. 

"I wanted you to _learn_ ," he corrects, though Kylo's not wrong: he does feel a certain level of enjoyment from being watched by Kylo, if perhaps a little troubled by the degree of intensity involved.

It also reminds him that he really does need to come up with some kind of action plan for how to handle Kylo's... Apparent interest in him. 

"First you accuse me of being a voyeur, and now an exhibitionist...?" Hux says, a slight smirk lifting one side of his mouth as he sits down to eat. "It seems almost as if you protest too much, Kylo."

Kylo flushes and turns his attention to his plate. 

So apparently this is how Hux is going to deal with it: by being a bit of an ass. Still, he can't deny that watching Kylo react is...

Even if it is easy to get a rise out of him, there's still a certain amount of thrill to it when it comes in this form.

This is definitely something he's going to have to think about. 

They eat in a surprisingly companionable silence as Hux mentally works through his lesson plans and how he'll be able to work his personal assignments around what he needs to do with Kylo.

It's doable, he thinks. It's all doable.

(A terrible, awful, to-be-silenced-immediately part of his mind suggests that Kylo is also doable. He ignores it.) 

He's very glad Kylo can not, as he explained earlier, actually read minds.

He wonders how true that is.

He becomes annoyed with himself for chasing thoughts that serve absolutely no purpose whatsoever. 

A distraction is required.

"So if you don't know how to clean or do laundry..."

"Mm?" Kylo looks up, and unless he has managed to perfect his Poker Face in the last half an hour, he very definitely wasn't peeping into Hux's thoughts. 

A relief, at least.

"Have you been tended to by droids your whole life?"

These are, perhaps, dangerous waters; while he has not been instructed not to pry too deeply into the personal life of _Lord Kylo Ren_ , there is something about the set-up of the Knights implies a certain amount of secrecy. His tone is polite, casual, leaving room for Kylo to defer gently...

...But Kylo being Kylo, of course, he responds with suspicion and brutality. 

His hackles rise immediately and visibly, and Hux once again has the strong urge to bury his head in his hands. The boy is so _reactive_ ; anything can set him off, and nothing Hux seems to say to him makes any difference to that.

"Why?" Ren demands, mouth set into a thin line. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because it's--" Hux finds himself struggling to explain _normal human interaction_ , since it's not something he's ever had to do before. "Because it's what people do. When they talk? They exchange information about one another, especially when relevant to their current situation or conversation."

This is something Kylo should know-- he can _talk_ for stars' sake. How can he not have inferred the meanings and behaviours behind that?

It makes him even more curious about Kylo's history before he came here.

"Interrogative: to express a desire for information," Kylo says, repeating what Hux had told him before. Hux gives small, soft snort despite himself.

"Well-remembered. But it's not always something sinister, Kylo, and it's not always helpful to fly off the handle when it happens. I believe I told you that, too."

Kylo pulls a face and looks down at his plate. 

"Maybe."

'Maybe' Hux's backside; he remembers it quite clearly. At least Ren obviously does too, though, which is positive if nothing else is: he has no control, but he's clever, and he retains information well. 

Maybe repetition and reinforcement are all that will be needed.

"Well?" Hux prompts.

"Well what?" Kylo says, and he's looking evasive again. Hux mentally requisitions some more patience, reviews the request, and grants it.

"Either answer the question, or deflect."

"With some personally suitable variant of same?" Kylo asks, and Hux can see the beginnings of a very, very small smile gathering in his eyes.

"Yes."

"Your person or mine?"

Valid question, actually, and Hux considers it.

"Either. Both." He waits to see how Kylo will respond, and is genuinely surprised by his choice.

"I _have_ almost always been attended to by droids," he says-- offhand, casual, his answer coming in the same tone as Hux had used to post the question. "On the occasions where I haven't been, _making the bed_ and _doing my laundry_ were lower on my list of concerns than ensuring I stayed alive."

Well. That's put Hux in his box. He wonders if that was the intention (in which case, he's both annoyed and oddly proud by how effective it's been), or if Kylo simply doesn't know how to share without overdoing it.

"Ah," he says, after a moment, and picks at his vegetables. "Well then."

"You asked," Kylo says grumpily, hunching up his shoulders again. 

"I did," Hux agrees, eager to prevent the situation from boiling over. "And I appreciate your honesty. Your frankness might be something we'll have to work on for situations involving other people, but I suppose between ourselves, I might grow accustomed to it."

Kylo gives a little grin at that and kicks him under the table.

Well. Hux supposes he'd started that particular manner of displaying camaraderie, so he can hardly chastise Ren for following suit. (Though he hopes Kylo would know not to do it with others. Hopes hard. Realises said hope is probably in vain. Decides to make a lesson of it, instead. Just to be sure.)

"You can tell me more if you want," Hux says, keeping his gaze on his plate.

"Not now," Kylo says, simply and curtly-- but without any suspicion or anger. That's a big improvement from _I don't want to talk about it_ and _Why do you want to know_ , so Hux will take it as a positive step.

"All right," he says agreeably, and no further conversation is exchanged between them until dinner is finished and Hux is loading the plates into the washer. 

"Do we really have to clean up the mess in my room tonight?" Kylo asks, out of nowhere. "Because we could just wait for the deliverymen..."

"No, Kylo," Hux sighs. "I will not have them reporting in that my quarters were in a state of disrepair-- even if that is technically your room. Besides, you're already finished for the day while I still have to finish off my amended schedule and your curriculum. So don't pout."

"I wasn't... Pouting," Kylo says, although if he wasn't before, he definitely is now. 

Hux has the strong urge to pinch his lower lip, so he turns away and heads down the hallway to the small storage closet at the end, instead.

"First lesson in cleaning Kylo, is the same as the first lesson in undertaking any job: familiarise yourself with your tools."

For all his complaints, Kylo knows what most of the cleaning supplies are for, if not how to use them-- and better yet, there isn't quite as much damage to Kylo's room as Hux had thought the night before... Or at the very least, there isn't a lot for them to do. 

Hux shows Kylo how to sweep up the glass without getting cut by it, and sends him to dispose of it in the kitchen. He returns without fresh wounds, so seemingly he has taken the message to heart. Once the mess has been taken care of, the rest is relatively simple.

The bed is definitely a write-off: the headboard and frame warped and twisted, but all they can do there is lift out the mattress and set it aside so the frame can be removed-- along with the lamp and the frame of the desk. Hux has requested stronger materials for the replacements (transparisteel rather than glass, and steel rather than wood), and it's a request he hopes will be respected. He could really do without having to do this every couple of days. 

Ren, for his part, is a solid worker: he takes instruction well (once he's decided to take it at all, that is), and he's irritatingly strong, able to lift the bed-frame with barely any visible effort. Perhaps he's using the Force to assist him...? Either way, after noticing how easy it appears to be for him, Hux lets him bear the brunt of the physical labour.

Ren doesn't seem to mind. 

Hux wonders if he's showing off. 

(If he is, it wouldn't do to indulge it, so Hux is careful to refrain from looking at him over-much, although he does sneak the occasional glimpse in the mirror, which miraculously escaped unscathed.) 

It doesn't take them long to finish up; they make a good team, he admits, then says as much to Kylo, who brightens immediately at the comment. 

"It was easier than I presumed," he says, ducking his head a little. Hux swats at his arm lightly, then heads for the living room again.

"Now, about that blanket..."

Kylo's groan follows him all the way up the hall, and Kylo himself follows a moment later. 

"I do know how," he grouses, and Hux frowns at him. 

"Then why didn't you do it?" 

"I didn't bother," Kylo says, shrugging, and looking entirely at ease with that fact. Hux's skin crawls at the prospect. 

"Kylo. Discipline is borne out of effort."

"I know. I can be disciplined. It takes great care and _discipline_ to wield the Force," he says, suddenly earnest again. It's a curious thing, and one Hux intends to keep to himself, but when Kylo speaks of the Force, it seems as though he fancies himself a sage, or a teacher... But the reality is very different. It is in these moments, Hux very privately feels, that he seems most like a child reciting lines he has learned, like someone holding fast to a flickering candle in the midst of a howling storm. 

"That's a different thing," Hux says gently. "This is smaller discipline, practical discipline. The kind that allows you to respond to questions without taking somebody's head off-- literally or figuratively. It's routine, habit: it's getting so used to doing it that it happens almost without conscious thought, without effort."

"Like muscle memory," Kylo says, at last seeming to take this on board. It's an obvious connection-- one Hux should have made, considering his familiarity with Kylo's fondness for physical training, but it seems Kylo is perfectly capable of making the jump for himself.

His delight at Kylo being able to do that is almost enough to outweigh his annoyance with himself. (Almost.)

"Exactly," he says, lifting the blanket and holding it out to Kylo. "Now show me."

"Now?" Kylo says, taking it, but regarding it with obvious disbelief and refraining from unfolding it. "I'm going to be sleeping under it in a while!"

"Not the point, Kylo," Hux says patiently, folding his arms behind his back, waiting.

The moment draws out between them for a while before Kylo huffs, rolls his eyes, and shakes out the blanket before folding it back up again-- more precisely this time, lining up the edges perfectly. Hux smiles. He's not sure which he likes better: the obeying, the honesty, or the competence.

"Good," he praises, and there is an immediate flicker of pleasuregratitudewant across Kylo's face before it's gone again and he drops the blanket on the sofa, following it soon after, and sprawling again.

"So am I permitted to spend the remainder of the evening relaxing, or does your _rota_ call for me to scrub the refresher with a toothbrush?" There is a teasing lilt to his voice and a tiny smile on his lips that makes Hux feel faintly... drawn to him.

"You've parroted my own words back to me so often now that I am well-informed of the capabilities of your memory, Kylo," Hux says dryly, but he can't help his own smile from answering in turn. "And don't think I don't know cheek when I see it, either."

Kylo outright grins at that, so bright it splits his face-- making him look utterly unburdened. It's a rarity, and one Hux appreciates. 

He retrieves the pad from the kitchen counter and hands it to him. He looks delighted-- which is nice, though in truth Hux is mostly giving it to him as a reward for good behaviour, and _not_ because he on some level enjoys putting Kylo in good spirits.

"Here. I suppose I can work from the console in my room," he says, and Kylo's grin slips a bit.

"Oh. Right. Well."

He seems torn, presumably between the desire for some kind of company and the urge to throw himself back into the information from which he's been deprived for so long. Hux takes the decision out of his hands and moves towards the hallway. He really does have work to be getting on with, and honestly: he could use a little space from Ren to clear his head and think for a bit.

"Don't stay up too late; we're back on our proper schedule tomorrow."

"I won't," he says, obviously considering saying more before retreating into the sofa a little. "...Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, Kylo. If you need anything, you know where I am."

"I'll try not to disturb you."

Hux sighs. "Kylo. If you require my help, just knock on my door, all right? I'm not going to mind."

"Oh," Kylo says then, looking lost and suspicious and somehow grateful again. "All right. Goodnight, Bren."

Hux inclines his head and makes his way to his room. He shuts the door behind himself and leans against it, palms pressed flat against the wood. He feels the urge to knock his head against it, too, but refrains. Not helpful. Possibly injurious. Also loud. Probably Kylo would come running.

No. 

The urge remains. 

He needs... _Something_ to clear his head, so he settles for opening the window and letting the warm, perfumed air drift in. 

Folding his arms across the sill, he rests his chin on them and stretches his back, looking out into the little patch of woods behind the building. Only one of the moons has risen, its light pale and waning, so he can't really see much: just the shapes of trees and shrubbery, and the distant yellow glow from the other homes on the far side. 

There are so many _sounds_ , though-- rustling and crunching and the occasional low howl. Sometimes the sounds are accompanied by a flash of eyeshine, and it strikes Hux again how much _life_ there is on this planet, how many lifeforms there are constantly around him going about their business. 

He barely noticed it before this; it had registered only as an irritant or inconvenience, but at the present time, it makes a welcome distraction from thoughts of the lifeform now sharing this apartment with him. 

The lifeform whose business is also Hux's business. 

Kylo Ren.

 _Lord_ Kylo Ren, if you please.

Master of the Knights of Ren. Tantruming child. Force user. Lost soul. Craving structure. Resenting authority. 

Alluring. Annoying. Powerful. Desperate. Avoidant. Lonely. Attractive. Difficult. 

An opportunity. A problem.

_Exhausting._

Hux buries his face in his arms and groans, sucking in a deep breath and reaching for the energy to get back to work. He finds it, and seats himself at his console, sketching out out his teaching sessions with Kylo, then bringing up his personal schedule and starting to alter it to include those lessons, and also his training sessions with Kylo. Those mean, at least, that he won't have to find additional time for individual physical training, but it _all_ means pushing back the delivery date for his simulation project. 

He hates doing that, _hates it_ , and his finger hovers over the button for quite some time before he submits. 

Still, much as it annoys him, it can't be helped: the Kylo Project (as he titled his lesson plan) has to take precedence. That was his instruction, after all, but... More than that, it is what Hux knows and feels to be of greater importance. 

He is, as Kylo had so graciously pointed out, about as sensitive to the Force as your average rock, but he is still a man with instincts and urges... And he still knows, instinctively, that this is where his focus must rest, and feels the urge to do the best job he possibly can. 

To that end, he returns to perfecting what he hopes will be a suitable, _possible_ curriculum for Kylo: one they can both accept and which Kylo can actually complete so that this assignment is a success for the both of them. 

By the time he is finished, the second moon has risen, and he has completely ignored his own advice to get an early night.

Well. It won't be the first time he's run on very little sleep, and he highly doubts it will be the last. He had, at the Academy, run various experiments to determine how much (or rather: how little) sleep he required before it began to compromise his ability to function. He had surprised himself with his ability to tolerate sleep deprivation and still perform well, but for the sake of his long-term health, he'd elected to pace himself. 

Rising the ranks is a marathon, not a sprint, and so he has allowed himself more sleep than he absolutely _requires_ in the years since.

He's going to have to shelve that for a little while.

He'll manage, though it will take some time for his body to accept the new regimen when it had become so accustomed to the old one. While the environs of the planet had been new to him, he had at least been able to keep to his usual routine, which was probably the reason he'd managed to adapt so quickly.

No matter. Time to adapt again. He can do it, he knows he can. 

The first step is to restore what he can of his routine, and so he pads out to the refresher quietly... Then considers that he should perhaps check in on Kylo.

Unlike Hux, Kylo took his advice to heart: this time he really _is_ asleep, so Hux pauses a minute to consider him unobserved.

Unlike his preference for sprawling in his waking hours, sleep finds Ren's over-large form curled up into a tight ball on the sofa underneath his blanket. There are no signs of tension or bad dreams, and though his hair is even more of a disaster than usual, his face is relaxed and almost serene. Hux watches him for a little while, ostensibly for signs that a rerun of last night is impending, but also...

...Also because it pleases him to do it: to admire the long straight slope of his nose, his full mouth, his long eyelashes resting against his cheeks and surrounded by his ridiculous hair. 

His fingers itch to touch, to be buried in that hair and _pull_ \-- But he refrains. Unlike Kylo, Hux has complete control of himself, which is why he turns on his heel and makes his way to the refresher. 

His fingers still tingle with unfulfilled want by the time he returns to his bedroom, and his mind is likewise abuzz.

He shuts his eyes and takes a breath to calm himself, going over his to-do list in his mind and mentally checking off the items:

 **1\. Discuss chore rota with Ren over dinner tonight.**  
**Status:** Complete.  
**Outcome:** Surprisingly good; we'll see if he actually obeys it.

 

 **2\. Discuss Ren's future expectations for training re: my participation & scheduled times.**  
**Status:** Complete.  
**Outcome:** proceed as outlined.

 **3\. Finish personal schedule with ref. to 2.**  
**Status:** Complete.  
**Outcome:** proceed as outlined; revise as necessary.

 **4\. Finish curriculum for Ren's education.**  
**Status:** Complete (provisional).  
**Outcome:** proceed as outlined; revise as necessary.

 **5\. Try not to die tomorrow morning while Ren drives us to the training center.**  
**Status:** Pending.  
**Outcome:** To be determined. 

**6\. Visit new lunch venue tomorrow (try not to die, again).**  
**Status:** Pending.  
**Outcome:** To be determined. 

**7a. Continue to attempt to make sense of Ren.**  
**Status:** In progress.  
**Outcome:** Knowledge base expanding; understanding following proportionally. 

**7b. Accept that this will be an uphill battle.**  
**Status:** Complete.  
**Outcome:** Try not to take up drinking.

 **8\. Have inevitable argument with delivery crew about dates and times.**  
**Status:** Pending.  
**Outcome:** Try not to murder anyone.

 **9\. Await response regards Ren's clearance level.**  
**Status:** Pending.  
**Outcome:** Rein in your impatience.

He's done pretty well, he thinks.

What remains, however, is the much stickier and less quantifiable issue of Kylo's... Response to being given orders. His flirtation. The way his gaze lingers when Hux moves, as if--

Hux groans at the thought and rolls over, mashing his face into the pillows. 

He is too _tired_ for this, damn it. Ren is a conflicted, confusing creature, infuriating and intriguing in equal measure, but ultimately... Neither of these is anything Hux can actually _act_ on. 

Kylo is, simply put, a mess. Moreover, he is a mess that is Hux's job to clean up, and while Kylo might not be _under his command_ , being _in his care_ is in some ways worse. He is relying on Hux to shape him into something better, something stronger, and while it would be all too easy to do that by over-exploiting his obvious attraction and seeming desire to serve, it would be both wrong and ill-advised. 

Firstly, it would mean that any changes Hux wrought would require Hux to remain around to enforce them, which isn't going to be possible. At the end of their assignment, Kylo will be sent back from whence he came, and Hux will be reassigned to another ship or another planet to continue his work. In fact, if anything, creating that kind of bond could leave Kylo _worse_ than he is now: deliberately rebelling against Hux's teachings out of spite at his apparent "abandonment"-- but also unintentionally, out of a sense of loss and grief that would see him unable to maintain his control.

Secondly, although Hux enjoys _wielding_ his power, he doesn't enjoy _abusing_ it, and while Kylo seems to have a natural inclination towards serving, Hux doubts he has either the control or the maturity to understand what he would be getting into. He's old enough, of course, but that's hardly the issue: while at times he appears far older and more dangerous than his years would suggest, there are also moments where he seems infinitely more vulnerable. The prospect of damaging Ren somehow is immensely unpalatable to him, especially when it isn't in Hux's own best interests, or anything that's remotely necessary.

No, he thinks-- while he might occasionally lean on Kylo's disposition if it becomes absolutely necessary to make a point, allowing their relationship to turn sexual would be a terrible idea. It doesn't matter that Kylo looks as though he might like it, and it definitely doesn't matter that Hux feels as though he might like it. What matters is that it would be _unwise_.

It will suit both their ends, he thinks, for Hux to be simply a teacher to Kylo: a friend, and someone for whom he can harbour, perhaps, a temporary infatuation... But nothing more than that. 

Well, then. Decision made. Sleep should follow soon after.

Except...

Except it doesn't.

It is the first time in Hux's life that reaching a decision doesn't settle him in some way. 

Unlike the lack of sleep, this comes as a surprise; Hux has always been a man who has felt most at ease once a decision has been made, after all, and he has made the same choice this time as every other: he has decided to do what is right, and what makes sense. Why should it cause him conflict this time when it never has before?

Then again, this is the first time that what is _right_ and what makes _sense_ is not what he _wants_.

Sleep comes eventually-- but he dreams, and it is of Kylo: Kylo, sleeping beside him against a sea of stars.

That, at least, brings him peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out, the chapters should be a little shorter (as I won't be trying to cover every second that passes now they've established a baseline for their relationship). Maybe they'll be shorter. Possibly? Hopefully?
> 
> In any case: chapter 4 is in progress, and I am (currently) hoping I can deliver it on schedule: in two weeks from today. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! ❤️ I continue to be delighted and surprised by the positive response this story has been getting, and the ongoing feedback really does inspire me to write so that I don't leave anybody hanging or let anybody down. Comments here are very much appreciated, but if you'd prefer to hit me up in person, I can be found Tumbling around [here](http://finalizer-psytech.tumblr.com/), instead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delivered on time, by some miracle...! 
> 
> My usual thanks to [zombiebrainsoup](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiebrainsoup/pseuds/zombiebrainsoup) and [Catherine MCord](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CathrineMcCord/pseuds/CathrineMcCord) for their usual super beta skills, and to my alpha readers, whose encouragement and support means a lot. ❤️

When Hux wakes before his alarm, he considers it a positive omen for the day.

Not, of course, that he believes in omens, but order comes more readily from order than chaos, and so he finds an orderly beginning to a day is a good sign-- _not_ because of some superstitious nonsense, but because it tends to put him in a better frame of mind with which to face the day. He turns off his alarm before it can ring, and rolls out of bed.

He is, he'll admit, a little tired... But that's nothing new. For the short time that he was actually in bed, he feels surprisingly well rested-- he slept deeply, it seems, although he does not remember dreaming. He stretches a little, then makes his bed and heads into the fresher to perform his morning ablutions, tidy his thoughts, and prepare himself for the coming day as he always does.

He resolutely does not check on Kylo first. 

It is Kylo's first morning to prepare breakfast, _if_ he is following the rota. Hux is curious to know if he will, indeed, follow it-- and if so, what his attempts will be like. He does not want to influence the situation either way with his presence, and so instead returns to his room to dress after his shower before making his way to the living space.

He is surprised, pleasantly, by what he finds: as yesterday, Kylo is sitting at the counter, reading Hux's datapad with a glass of juice at his elbow. This morning, however, instead of scattered stray ration crumbs, there is a half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of him, and a carton of milk. There is a second bowl across from him in Hux's spot. And a small pot of berries. And a spoon. And he can actually smell the caf brewing. And Kylo's blanket is folded, neatly, on the sofa.

Well. 

Well, well. 

He stands back for a moment, taking this in.

"Very good, Kylo," he says, after a moment. "Well done. Thank you."

Kylo beams, and Hux pours himself a cup of caf before taking his seat across from him.

"I didn't think I should try cooking."

"Probably wise," Hux agrees. "But this is perfectly acceptable in its stead."

He sips at his caf and eyes Kylo for a moment.

"You look well-rested, for someone who slept on the sofa."

Kylo gives him a little smile and ducks his head to study his cereal.

"I slept well. You, however, look like someone who did not sleep much at all."

Hux shrugs and begins spooning fruit into his cereal and adding milk. It is, he thinks, an impressively thoughtful meal for someone's first effort, and makes a note to point this out later.

Assuming it doesn't kill him, that is.

He adds milk, suddenly very aware that Kylo's watching him from under his mop of hair.

"A tip, Kylo: if you've poisoned someone's food, try to look less invested before  
they eat it."

Kylo's head snaps up, consternation on his face. 

"I haven't--"

Hux sighs and shovels an unnecessarily large spoonful of cereal into his mouth. If that doesn't prove his _trust_ in Kylo's intentions (if not his abilities), nothing will. 

Seeing this, Kylo immediately shuts up. Hux is relieved to see that he can at least interpret basic signals, although the intensity of his interest still leaves a little to be desired in terms of proper decorum.

He shouldn't reward that, he knows, but it is early days, and he thinks he'd better put Kylo out of his misery.

"It's a very thoughtful breakfast, Kylo-- very good, and not poisonous at all," he comments.

Kylo puffs up a little in response.

"I know."

Hux gives him a look of utter disbelief at that, but elects to refrain from further comment. He has more pressing matters, anyway. 

Kylo seems to take this as a win, so Hux kicks him gently.

Disturbingly, Kylo doesn't seem to mind that, either, and the look he flashes Hux in response is both cheeky and alluring.

Well. That's--

No. 

He doesn't allow himself to dwell. On to more important topics.

"In any case, while you were drooling your way through the Land of Nod, _I_ was getting work done."

Kylo scowls up at him, spoon clutched in one hand. "You told me to go to sleep early! You can't tell me to go to sleep early and then complain _because I went to sleep early._ " He tilts his chin up, eyes defiant. "It's not fair."

He has a point, and Hux finds that he is oddly pleased that Kylo has strength enough to point it out. To his immense surprise, he rather likes that Kylo is prepared to stand up to him-- at least when he has a point.

"It wasn't a complaint, Kylo; I was merely teasing you," Hux sighs, reaching for the milk again. "Anyway, the point is this: I finished your curriculum last night."

"Let me guess," Kylo says, setting his spoon down. "Number one, take a big stick. Number two, insert that stick--"

Hux kicks him under the counter, harder than the last time, and Kylo yelps with a mixture of surprise and laughter.

" _Number one_ , you're being very cheeky today. Number two, please do at least attempt originality in your sad little insults-- do you really think I haven't heard every variation on that theme over the years? And, most importantly, number three: I'm not trying to make a clone of myself. It wouldn't work, for a start, not with you as the base material... But moreover, I believe you're more useful to the Order as you are, anyway."

"More useful than you?" Kylo says, clearly incredulous, which bolsters Hux's ego some... But as touching as Kylo's disbelief is, that doesn't mean it's accurate. 

"Well, they already have one of me," he says, shrugging one shoulder as he starts on his cereal. "Now as to the curriculum--"

"You're changing the subject," Kylo says, and this is one of those moments where his keen insight and preference for stating the obvious really are quite irritating. 

"Hardly. I already said--"

"You are useful," Kylo interrupts, fixing him with that too-intense stare. It's annoying; partly because both of those things are near the top of Hux's list of Things Kylo Needs To Work On, but it also puts him in the position of having to argue against his own competence, which isn't a prospect Hux relishes. 

The entire subject is a matter he'd prefer to leave unspoken, in fact. Drawing comparisons between Kylo and himself will only serve to antagonise both.

"Kylo, in the interest of maintaining a positive working relationship, please try not to take it as an insult when I say that the day I require you to bolster my self-esteem is the day that I'd really like to be taken out back and shot."

Kylo huffs a little laugh at this, relaxing the intensity of his staring a little, and Hux offers him a smile for it. 

"Should I bother trying to talk about our actual duties now, or are you planning on interrupting again?"

Kylo makes a show of pursing his lips --lip in the literal sense, without needing to say anything-- and Hux smirks at him.

"And for your reference: cheek is on the agenda, though it's not the most pressing issue in my opinion." 

Kylo says nothing, the picture of interest and innocent curiosity... Apart from the tiny smirk tugging at his lips. While endearing, Hux suspects it's also very temporary, and will vanish as soon as he actually gets down to brass tacks. Unfortunate; he rather likes that look on Kylo. It makes him want to ki--

No, he thinks, and mentally squashes that horrible little voice which continues to suggest these things.

Besides. 

The end of it is unavoidable, so he presses on.

"Essentially," Hux says, "I think what I need to impart to you breaks down into two distinct categories: physical behaviour and verbal behaviour." He gives Kylo a smile, half sly and half genuine. "As exemplified by your current state, what you don't say and how you present yourself can be just as telling as what you _do_ say... Though, that, of course, has its obvious importance, too."

As predicted, Kylo's amusement has slipped and he has refocused his attention on his cereal, though he seems less sulky than he does forlorn. 

Hux appreciates that even less, largely because while the sulking is merely annoying, this _sadness_ Kylo exudes from time to time is almost insufferable. 

Hux is, in the main, a fixer of problems: it is in his nature to analyse a situation, deduce what needs improvement, and act upon it.

While Kylo's manners and behaviour are things he believes he has the capacity to fix, his loneliness and sadness is nothing Hux can address, not really. He can be a friend, but only a temporary friend, and as for anything else... In his current capacity as Kylo's teacher, he can hardly act as a peer, temporarily or otherwise. (He refuses to consider other kinds of interpersonal relationships when it comes to Ren. He will not let them enter his head. He's made his decision and he intends to stand by it.)

"So," he continues. "We'll focus on both. Four core lessons covering eight topics across the two areas."

Kylo seems to take a minute to absorb this, his gaze raking over Hux's features. Fine. Let him look. He will see nothing but sincerity, order, and appreciation of his breakfast.

"You're really serious about this, too."

"I am entirely serious, yes," Hux says, careful to keep his tone even. "It's as with the chores, Kylo: it only seems difficult until you start." He gestures at the food in front of him. "Then you quickly discover that you're very capable."

Kylo rolls his eyes at that, but a pleasing little flush rises in his cheeks.

"Fine," he says after a moment, and Hux smiles. Kylo smiles back, almost shyly, and Hux wants--

No, damn it. _No_.

"Well, then," he says, and reaches over to pluck the pad from Kylo's fingers, gives Kylo access to the document he created last night, then hands it back. "You can read over it at your leisure."

Kylo hums his approval and thumbs at the screen, already skimming the document. 

His response to the chore rota had been disgruntled horror; Hux had been expecting more of the same when it came to this.

Instead, there is mostly amusement.

"Bren." He says simply, clearly fighting to keep a grin off his face. "You've labelled them."

Hux frowns. 

"Well, yes."

"You've labelled them like school lessons. Or like courses at the Academy."

"Yes?" Hux says, suddenly feeling... Wrong-footed, somehow. If Kylo had been angry, it would have been easier to take than this, this... Amusement. It's not even _cruel_ amusement. Kylo is looking at him the way you might look at a puppy or some other small and harmless creature which survived solely by virtue of its cuteness rather than its cunning.

It is distinctly unsettling, and Hux does not like it. 

"There's nothing funny about it, Ren. I expect you to take this seriously."

Kylo flinches, very slightly, at being called _Ren_ , and tilts his chin up.

"I intend to take it seriously," he says, a slight frown creasing his brow. "But that doesn't mean there's nothing funny about it."

Hux studies him for a moment, but he radiates only sincerity and surety.

"You seemed less certain about all of this yesterday," he says, and Kylo looks away.

"I had some time to think last night," he says simply, and Hux gets the feeling that while this is the truth, it is not the _entire_ truth. "I thought about what you said, and you were right. I'm not beyond reason. And I don't want to be beyond help. If you're prepared to offer it, then I'm prepared to take it."

Hux smiles at that, reflexively; the combination of Kylo repeating back his words, again, and the practicality of his sentiment leave him feeling pleased and considerably less irked than he had been before. 

"I'm glad you appreciate the opportunity," he says. "In that same spirit, as well as assisting you with your training, I would be interested in learning more about your abilities and the grander context in which they fall."

"You mean the Force," Kylo says, suddenly --suspiciously-- eager.

"...Yes," Hux says slowly. "That's what I mean."

"Does that mean I get to prepare a curriculum?" Kylo asks cheekily, eyes lighting up as he grins.

"If you like," Hux says carefully, entirely sure he is walking into some sort of trap, but not remotely sure what form said trap will take.

"Hm," Kylo says simply, turning his attention to the pad again. "These are arranged in order?"

"I had intended them to be. We can alter it, if you'd prefer, but I thought..."

"Least to greatest difficulty."

"Well, yes," Hux says, and Kylo purses his lips and looks down. 

"It's fine like this," he says curtly, and sets the datapad down on the counter between them.

Hux picks it up to scan the document, trying (and failing) to see where Kylo might have sourced his amusement, but there's nothing about the situation he finds funny--

 **Lesson 01: Respect**  
**Physical Component:** Personal Space  & You  
**Verbal Component:** Interruptions - A Guide  
**Learning Outcomes:** Demonstrate a capacity to identify situations where physical or verbal intrusions are inadvisable. Explain and justify the rationale used to derive these conclusions.

 **Lesson 02: Communication**  
**Physical Component:** The Importance of Eye Contact  
**Verbal Component:** The Convincing Lie: How-To  
**Learning Outcomes:** Recognise situations where eye contact is necessary, and when a lie is optimal. Explain these choice. Demonstrate an ability to initiate and maintain eye contact as necessary. Prove an ability to formulate effective lies.

 **Lesson 03: Deportment**  
**Physical Component:** Perfect Posture: Principal Primer  
**Verbal Component:** Over-sharing, Under-Sharing,  & Finding a Balance  
**Learning Outcomes:** Present perfect posture and movement. Display an understanding of the difference between an intimidating and friendly stance. Explain and justify situations where each is appropriate. Identify topics and statements which are likely to be considered impolite or tactless. Demonstrate an ability to refrain from introducing or elaborating on such topics or statements. Recognise questions and topics which require disclosure and candour, and recommend strategies for handling such questions. 

**Lesson 04: Endurance**  
**Physical Component:** Physical Contact: Accepting, Mastering, Implementing  
**Verbal Component:** Grace Under Fire - Difficult questions; Easy Answers  
**Learning Outcomes:** Recognise situations where physical contact is necessary, both to receive and initiate, and justify these choices. Demonstrate an ability to tolerate or initiate said physical contact under those conditions. Identify situations where conversational delicacy and endurance is required. Display an ability to evaluate the level of response required, and subsequently navigate these conversations without recourse to violence, threat, or insult

It is, in Hux's opinion, all perfectly reasonable and rational. The titles were angled so as to be amusing enough to be somewhat memorable, but that was all. There was definitely nothing in it to explain the... Fondness it seemed to engender in Ren.

Well. 

If his mind worked in the same manner as Kylo's, they would hardly be here now. 

Having finished his cereal, he slips off his stool and takes their bowls to the sink to rinse them before putting them in the washer.

"Go get your things so we can head out. I am, after all, so terribly eager to see the hand you make of driving us to work."

Kylo brightens at that, his ill mood slipping away as he apparently chooses to ignore the sarcasm. (Which, to be entirely honest, wasn't really that sincere anyway.)

"Be prepared to be impressed," he says confidently, and Hux rolls his eyes, but there's no genuine annoyance in that, either. He finds he likes Kylo like this: relaxed, happy, self-assured. 

It occurs to him that Kylo is at the peak of all of these things when either engaged in physical activity, or in the wake of Hux's orders.

He tries not to think about that (and harder not to think about the combination it suggests), turning his attention instead to wiping down the counter, so it takes him a moment to notice that Kylo hasn't actually left yet.

"Did you lose your hearing in your sleep? I said: go and get your things."

Kylo straightens immediately, taking a step towards the door. "I will," he says. "I am. I was just... Watching to see how you did that."

"...How I wipe down a countertop?" His tone is blatantly incredulous. Lies are not even within the scope of the first lesson they have to cover, but he's still a little disappointed somehow.

"Okay, so I was just watching you," Kylo says, and all right: _that_ he doesn't mind so much. He had, after all, told Kylo he wanted his honesty, so when it happens, Hux is going to have to suck it up and deal with the consequences.

"I see," he says primly, and he's glad of his years of practice in keeping his expression neutral, because it does take some effort to keep the responding smile off his face. "Well, you can watch me later. Go, Kylo. Now."

He does, immediately, which makes Hux's heart sing a little.

Then, from the hallway:

"You are useful, Hux. And important. You're going to do great things."

As a rule, Hux does not judge himself lesser than any man: he is smarter and stronger and better prepared and more determined than anyone else, and in the event that he should ever find himself otherwise, he will work until he is bloody to _become_ all of those things. 

In the face of the Force, though, and in the face of Force _users_ like Kylo, there is little he can do to level the playing field-- and nothing he can do to make him more capable or any better in that area than he currently is. Even increasing his knowledge (an opportunity he will take, of course) can do nothing to change that, only to improve his ability to predict how Force users might think or behave. 

He is useful, yes: knowledgeable, clever, hard-working, well-bred... The model of a young First Order officer making his way through the ranks. He is confident that there are none who could match him for dedication or talent... But there are many who could come close. So many that he would hardly call himself entirely irreplaceable. 

...And if you can be replaced, can you be truly important?

One day, perhaps. But not this one.

He sticks his head into the hall to find Kylo standing awkwardly at the entrance to his room, a few meters of space and an infinity of difference in perspective between them.

"Is this some kind of Force prophecy?" Hux asks, leaning his head against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest and letting his amusement show on his face. It's not callous, and it's not mocking, merely gently ribbing Kylo about abilities and skills Hux knows he can never hope to possess. 

"I don't have prophecies," Kylo says, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "There are some who possess that ability, but I do not. My strengths with the Force lie in other areas."

"So in other words, you're talking out your backside," Hux says teasingly, turning to head back into the kitchen when suddenly Kylo's hand curls around his upper arm: his grip is strong, and his skin is surprisingly warm through the thin fabric of Hux's training shirt. He moved so quickly Hux had no time to expect it, but even if he had, he would not have anticipated this. 

It is the first time Kylo has touched him --really, properly touched him, of entirely his own volition-- since he arrived. Hux's instinct is to freeze, as he might if he were hunting and some skittish animal wandered across his path and into the sights of his rifle, not wanting to scare Kylo off or do anything that would cause him to retreat. In fact, his instinct is not to even lift his gaze to Kylo's in case that's enough to send him wheeling back to his room... But he cannot help himself, and turns his head, fully expecting Kylo to break contact the moment he does, looking anxious and jumpy the way he always seems in those moments where he thinks he might have revealed too much.

Kylo, though-- far from uncertain, or prey, or skittish at all, looks more confident and sure than Hux has ever seen him without a weapon in his hand. 

He gives Hux the smile then, the one that is more brilliant than the sun on this ridiculous planet, and which hurts to look at just as much.

"Just my opinion, Bren."

He squeezes Hux's arm before he lets his hand drop, and Hux is vaguely aware of a dim sense of _loss_ at the warmth of it before Kylo is brushing past him and heading back down the hallway and into his room. 

What in stars' name is he supposed to do with that? With any of that? He finds himself blinking stupidly into the space where Kylo had been for a few moments before he can collect himself, but he manages to get everything (namely himself) under control by the time Kylo returns. 

"Ready?" Ren asks, cocksure and confident, and-- Oh, that little brat, he knew exactly what he was doing, didn't he...?

Hux is a little proud and a lot annoyed. Or, alternatively: a little annoyed and a lot proud. He doesn't have the time to determine which, though, simply grabbing his own bag and heading for the door. 

"For reference, Kylo," he says as they approach the speeder, "I shall be very disappointed if you kill us on the way to work."

"I'll take that with me to the afterlife," Kylo says, looking entirely delighted, seeming to understand that if Hux has at least faith enough to get in the speeder with him behind the controls, he cannot lack for trust entirely.

"Just so long as you don't try to bring me with you, as well," Hux grouses, but there is no real malice in it. 

Kylo laughs and hops into the speeder as soon as the canopy is down, as pleased as Hux has seen him since his arrival. Apparently, a good night's sleep has done wonders for the boy, though Hux cannot help but wonder if there is something more behind his good cheer. He settles into the passenger seat and notes with interest that Kylo does not replace the canopy, instead settling himself behind the controls, hands running over the dash before gripping the yoke in both hands. 

Hux is not entirely sure he likes the look in Kylo's eyes.

"Kylo, how long has it been since you've--" He cuts off as the engine starts, the speeder in (blessedly smooth) motion almost at once.

"A while," Kylo says glibly, and shoots him a smirk. "Don't worry; you don't forget."

"You had better not," Hux says, already digging his fingers into the leather of the seat. He is not sure whether he should watch Kylo or the street in front of them... But as it turns out, he had worried for nothing when it came to Kylo's abilities in piloting the vehicle: he is capable and sure, even if he _does_ fly a little faster than Hux would consider ideal.

His mouth twitches just a little, just a very little, as Kylo executes a sharp turn into another street.

"Do you trust me now?" 

Hux considers for a moment. "Why is it that I feel this question is a trap?"

Kylo only grins in response and suddenly the speeder accelerates violently and down a street which is not on the prescribed route to the training center.

"Kylo--"

"Don't worry, Bren-- It's a shortcut." He pauses, and then adds, seemingly unsure: "I think."

"You think?!" Hux says, a slight note of shrillness creeping into his voice. It's not as though he has to be concerned, really-- this is a safe planet, and even if Kylo does manage to get them lost, so long as he continues to handle the vehicle competently, there's really only so much damage he can do.

...And he _is_ competent; every obstacle is deftly avoided, though Hux thinks he is perhaps coming too close to some of the other speeders he overtakes, and that some of the stationary obstacles which zip by are so close that he could reach out and touch them if he wanted (and we were willing to lose a hand). In fact, it makes him wonder.

"You're showing off," he says, tone far more flat and devoid of amusement than he actually feels.

"I'm showing you my skill," Kylo corrects. "I'm proving you can trust me."

"You could achieve that just as easily without almost crashing," Hux points out, and Kylo scowls.

"I haven't almost-crashed even once! I'm only going close to things because I'm--"

"Showing off?" Hux asks, his amusement bleeding into his tone at last, and Kylo chances a sideways glance at him.

"A little," he confesses, and Hux pats his knee, wincing as this seems to only encourage him and they pick up speed and swoop down a hill, almost completely vertical for a moment. The wind whips through his hair, which is a not entirely unpleasant sensation, if his stomach weren't taking up most of his attention by relocating itself. He is also dimly aware that should they survive this, he will look disgracefully rumpled.

He resists the temptation to shut his eyes, though he does grip the seat rather tightly, and he has to raise his voice to be heard over the roar of the wind.

"I am fully convinced of your abilities now, Kylo. Your reflexes are excellent, as is your ability to judge distances, and to maneuver. Now do please slow down before something even you can't handle crops up."

To Hux's immense surprise, the speeder immediately slows.

"Sorry, Bren." Kylo glances over at him again, though it's less worrisome when they're moving at a normal speed. "I forgot you don't like being out of control."

"I would think that's a little more than _out of control_ , Kylo," Hux huffs, shifting back into his seat a little. "That sort of speed is tantamount to suicide."

"Not for a Force user," Kylo retorts, clearly pleased with himself. "You can consider that _your_ first lesson."

"Oh, is that how it's going to be?" Hux asks, amused despite his best efforts, and almost annoyed for it. "You intend to teach through intimidation, fear?"

"Were you scared?" Kylo asks. 

The little shit has backed him into a corner. 

"No," he says, after a moment. "Not quite. Though I will admit to concern."

"Of _immediate material harm to your person_?" Kylo asks, affecting his sorry attempt at Hux's accent again.

"If you're going to take me off, you can at least work on the accent," Hux sighs, avoiding the question just to be petty. 

"And what topic does that fall under?" Kylo asks, affecting an innocent expression. "I'd hate to skip ahead." 

"It's not on the curriculum, since I didn't think I needed to teach you humour," Hux says, giving him a nasty grin. "I was under the clearly mistaken impression that you had that in hand already."

"Was that a backhanded compliment?" Kylo asks shrewdly, once again turning his gaze from the street.

"Perhaps," Hux sighs. Now that Kylo has slowed to a pace that's almost normal, he can actually relax. It's not so bad, this-- Kylo driving him around with the canopy down, the buildings and green spaces slipping past as they fly.

Kylo is not going to kill them today, he doesn't think. One more item ticked off the today's list, at least; that's three, so far, and he hasn't even made it to the training center yet. Excellent progress, which lifts his mood quite a bit.

"On the topic of curriculums..." Kylo says slowly, gaze fixed on the traffic in front of him in a manner that Hux is fairly certain is less about caution and more about having an excuse not to make eye contact. 

"Hm?"

"Did you really mean it when you said you wanted to learn about the Force?"

Hux hums thoughtfully. This is something, he knows, which means a lot to Kylo: he is very passionate when he speaks of it, though also somewhat childlike. The combination leads Hux to conclude that although clearly he has strength and skill in this area, there is a ceiling to his understanding just the same if he has been studying it so exclusively for long and still seems more zealous than informed on the topic.

Through teaching him, perhaps Kylo might break through that ceiling and develop a truer communion with whatever the damned thing really entails, thus propelling both of them to new heights and impressing their superiors with the abilities to work together to improve themselves and increase their value to the Order.

"I did. And I think it will do you good to teach me."

"Does that mean it's doing you good to teach me these things?" Kylo says. His cheekiness seems to have returned in full force.

Hux wonders if he should nip it in the bud, but no: he decides he likes it. If it becomes a problem later, he has confidence in his ability to tamp it down as needed.

"Somewhat. Although I regret to inform you that I learned to make my bed years ago." He smiles. "The cooking, however... I haven't had a lot of opportunity to use that since I went to the Academy proper."

"How old were you when you went?"

"Fourteen-- That is to say, that's how old I was by the time we really got the Academy system up and running properly. Before that, there was just the one ship, and my father was in charge, so I was still living with my parents. The Order was really only in its infancy at the time-- some people were still committed to picking up the fragments of the Empire while others began trying to rebuild the _Republic_ , so it took a while for us to gain any real traction."

"Us," Kylo says, and Hux shrugs.

"I helped where I could. I was, if nothing else, an excellent example of what his teaching could make. Shortly after I turned fourteen, he managed to convince the rest of the Council that it was a necessary step to divert resources into creating Academies, plural, and to keep them on ships where they'd be safe from _the prying eyes of Resistance spies._ " A smile comes, unbidden. "It was a favourite saying of his."

"He's dead, then?" Kylos voice is cool and neutral, but there is sudden tension across his shoulders and in the way he grips the yoke.

Hux sits up immediately. "Hells, no. What makes you ask that?"

"Well-- You said _was_ ," Kylo says pointedly, scowling.

"It _was_ a saying of his-- nobody questions it anymore, so he doesn't have to explain it any longer. There are multiple benefits to being on a ship, anyway, so it should have been obvious. It prepares the cadets for their future lives and encourages them to feel at home in that environment; it allows the excision of undesirable influences; it creates a truly immersive experience; it creates a bond with one's peers; it gives the designer of the environment near-total control of all stimuli and information. It's the perfect breeding ground, really."

"You wanted to tick those off on your fingers as you went, didn't you," Kylo says, grinning broadly. 

He has a point.

"Perhaps."

"And you say 'perhaps' when you mean yes," Kylo presses, and Hux rolls his eyes. 

"I say 'perhaps' when I think it unwise to encourage you."

"You like encouraging me." 

"Only under very specific circumstances," Hux says, and a vivid, rapid-fire series of images of what those circumstances might be flits through his head.

Kylo gives a soft sound in response that Hux struggles not to react to.

"So," Kylo blessedly continues, after a moment. "You went to another Academy after they opened up. Just like that. Your father never objected?"

"My father insisted. He wanted to ensure the quality of their teaching was sound."

"He sent you as a spy?"

"In part. But he also wanted to test me, too, as well as to give me the broadest possible range of opportunities. I was very fortunate; I studied under a number of old Imperial masters in various subjects, and quickly learned not to become too attached to any place or person. To always put my duties first."

It is a lesson, he thinks, that he would do well to remember now.

"But you're attached to your father," Kylo says, and again: that cool, neutral voice, all his usual passion and interest washed out of it. 

Hux is beginning to suspect he now knows what old pain is driving Kylo, though he sets the knowledge aside until a time when he can tease it out a little more.

"To both my parents," Hux corrects gently. "My mother is a scientist-- a theoretical physicist originally, though of course the Order doesn't have much use for _theoretical_ anything, not when we're stretched so thin. She works in Engine Design now, mostly. Other things if they take her fancy." His mouth quirks a little at the thought of his mother's pet projects, though it falls when he feels Kylo's attention on him, alien and cold.

"You love them."

"Well, yes, Kylo. It's quite all right to love your parents, you know. Most officers do. It helps to unite us, to realise that we are all one great interconnected family, serving the common good."

"You're lucky," Kylo says, shoulders hunched, and suddenly Hux wonders if he was perhaps being optimistic in assuming they'd make it to the training center unscathed purely because Kylo posses the ability to get them there safely, as currently he looks as though he entirely lacks the _will_ to do so, and would just as easily drive them straight into a wall.

Time for a topic change, but not one so obvious that Kylo sees it for what it is, and seemingly subtlety will be needed, because Kylo is surprisingly sharp.

"I notice you didn't seem surprised when I mentioned my father being in charge of the Academy."

Kylo shrugs, but his shoulders drop just a little and his grip on the yoke eases up a bit, too.

"I didn't have to attend the Academy to be familiar with the major players in the Order," he says simply, gaze still fixed on the road, but at least some colour has returned to his voice and some expression to his face. 

"At least that should make the lessons about knowing when to defer _gracefully_ a little easier," Hux says, in a lame attempt at humour. He's not sure what it means that Kylo actually smiles in response, though it is tired and somehow sad, and does not reach his eyes.

"About your lessons..." Kylo sneaks a glance over at him, and Hux is relieved for that; he is beginning to understand the signals that indicate the beginning and end of these little mood swings, and is learning how to manage Kylo accordingly. 

"Yes?"

"I noticed there was nothing on it about control. I thought that's what I was here to learn most of all."

He is so very sharp, Hux thinks, and feels a fierce, sudden swell of inexplicable pride. He has not been working with Kylo for nearly long enough to take any ownership of his abilities... And yet he feels it just the same.

"Why do you think that might be?" Hux asks-- as ever, giving Kylo the opportunity to find the answer before it is handed to him.

"You don't think I need to learn control?" Kylo asks hopefully, and Hux smacks him around the back of the head.

"Try again."

Kylo gives him a mock glare, reaching back to rub his head with one hand. "I'm beginning to think you're the one who needs to learn control. You recourse to violence so often."

"Only when it is appropriate, Kylo," Hux says mildly, giving him his best political smile. "It's not a case of 'violence is never the answer'; if it were that easy, I could simply beat those words into you --not literally, of course-- until you accepted it as a truth. The reality, however, is very different. Violence sometimes _is_ the answer. Sometimes it is in fact the only answer. Sometimes it is in fact the question, and the answer is yes. What is important is determining when it is one of those times, and when it is not."

Kylo goes quiet for a little while, turning that over. 

"...And learning to control myself until I know."

"Yes," Hux says, and gives him a pleased smile. "But also to control yourself afterwards, too, because believe me-- that can sometimes be the greatest challenge of all."

"I'm sure you'd know," Kylo mutters, and then the coin drops and his eyes widen a little. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'," Hux says, fairly buoyed as they reach the training center. "Control is like anything else, Kylo: your ability to use it strengthens through practise and exercise."

Hux is ever so slightly tense as Kylo parks the speeder, but it turns out his concerns are, again, unfounded; he is, at this, as skilled as at everything else involving the vehicle. 

Kylo hops out as soon as they've come to a stop and stretches obnoxiously. 

Hux refuses to look at him, instead collecting his things from the speeder before putting the canopy up. From the looks of the sky, they might be in for another summer storm. 

_Weather_. Honestly.

Instead of looking at Kylo, he takes the opportunity to (try to) right his hair a little in one of the wing-mirrors. It's an utter mess, and it takes him quite a few minutes to rearrange himself (he makes a mental note to find a stronger hair product). Predictably, when he's finished, he finds Kylo watching him with an expression of extreme amusement. 

"Please tell me that haircare isn't one of your lessons," he says, stepping aside so Hux can lead the way towards their training space. "We have such different ideas of how things should look that I think you'd be wasting your time."

Hux shoots him an aggrieved look as he passes, then gives him the once over.

"I see little point in attempting to create a look of a polished discipline for you, considering it's not the image you wish to project," he says, slightly sniffily. "I would, however, recommend that you cut that ridiculous mop of yours. Assuming you do aspire to such a style, it's still getting... Ratty about the edges."

Kylo frowns a little and falls in at his side, picking at a strand of hair idly.

"I don't think it's... Ratty," he says lamely, peering at his split ends.

"It's untidy," Hux points out. "It needs neatening up."

Kylo's frown deepens, and Hux rolls his eyes. "I'm sure there's a barber shop here somewhere, Kylo. It's hardly a big deal."

"I've never been to a barber," Kylo says thoughtfully, and he has that damnable sad look in his eyes again, the one that makes Hux want to shake him. ( _Or kiss him_ , that wicked voice supplies again. _That would probably work much better._ Perhaps true, but the long-term consequences of kissing him would probably be worse than those of shaking him, Hux reminds himself. So: no.)

"A friend of my father's used to do it," Kylo continues quietly as Hux places his palm against the ID panel at the door. "A Wookiee."

It is the first time Kylo has mentioned his family, though Hux knew it was coming. While Kylo has, in the main, the manners of a feral animal that was at best raised in a barn, there have been too many indications that his issues --that some of his issues-- stem from family.

Hux is mindful to neither ignore nor press upon the issue directly, simply stepping inside and holding the door open for Kylo.

"Much as they possess an abundance of hair, Kylo, I am quite sure even a Wookiee would find your current state in need of redress."

He is aware of the weight of Kylo's gaze, his interest, in response to what he's decided to let out, but Hux isn't going to give him much response. He will listen, if Kylo wants to tell, and he will not press if it was a slip or an error. Hux's curiosity, in all things, is like a rathtar: ravenous and terrifying, but Hux is more than the master of it, and he will not let it rule his actions now. Instead, he only continues: 

"So unless you're planning on paying him a visit, you'll have to find somewhere else. There are plenty of places on this planet, no doubt. Perhaps we'll see somewhere after lunch today."

"No," Kylo says, firmly enough that Hux looks up at him to find his mouth set in a hard line. "They'd have to-- I don't want people touching me." Kylo stalks past him and into the training space, setting his bag on the floor by the mats. "You structured the lesson plan. Endurance of undesired physical contact was the last one."

"It was," Hux agrees, setting his own bag on the benches and sitting beside it. "It can wait. Perhaps that can be one of your lessons. Or tests. It is a little personal, I suppose, if you're unaccustomed to it."

Hux, of course, has regular haircuts as he has regular _everything_ ; he hardly relishes the intrusive touch of a stranger, but the prospect of untamed hair is sufficiently unappealing to him as to overrule his dislike. He hopes that he can, eventually, impart the same perspective to Kylo-- or even if he cannot internalise the need for good presentation and appearance as a core value, that he will at least accept it as a necessary evil and act accordingly. 

"A little," Kylo repeats, his tone dripping with sarcasm. 

"In the grander scheme of things. It's a basic social convention, however, and it would be wise to accept these things as unavoidable."

"I don't see why. I could do it myself."

"With your lightsaber?" Hux asks, leaning back against the benches. "Somehow I can't imagine that ending well."

Having stripped off his outer tunic (and abandoning it, Hux notes with some dismay, on the floor, in a pile), Kylo has started his warm-up sequence. Stretched out to one side, he tilts his head and seems to consider Hux for a little while.

"You could do it."

"I could cut your hair?" Hux asks, entirely skeptical. "My experience in personal grooming is limited to the extremely personal, Kylo, and it's certainly not something I've ever done for anyone else."

Something seems to happen to Kylo's expression on the words _extremely personal_ but it passes like a cloud over the sun.

"I trust you, Bren," he says, almost shyly, and something tightens in Hux's stomach. 

Damn it all. 

"Well," he says, after a moment's pause, "We'll see."

Kylo's smile sharpens around the edges before his face disappears behind his arms and hair as he moves, and then--

"Didn't you say that you would train _with_ me from now on?"

Hux pauses a moment to take him in --the spread stance, the wolfish grin, the hope in his eyes-- and rises slowly.

"All right," he says. "Let's begin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did promise this one would be shorter! The format will be switching up a little from here on out as their baseline relationship is now established --Hux seeking control; Kylo seeking attention-- and next we'll be moving on to their lessons. 
> 
> For reference: if you wondered as to the entire truth of what Kylo thought about last night? It was, indeed, how to make Hux go for him. He's already making his opening play, with the obvious parallels between the speeder scene here and the one with Anakin and Obi-Wan in _Attack of the Clones_. This is, alas, Courting: Skywalker Style-- at least in part. Just wait until he encounters a fruit bowl...
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Chapter 5 is in the works, and should be up two weeks from today.~~
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 5 has been delayed by an invasion of RL. Can I interest you in a [PWP interlude](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6583729) for this series as an apology? It's set somewhere around chapter 5, and the _real_ chapter 5 should be up in a fortnight (May 1st). ❤️
> 
> Until then, why not come talk to me [@finalizer-psytech](http://finalizer-psytech.tumblr.com) on Tumblr? :3


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